


Overdue

by HadenXCharm



Series: P.E. Debacle [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Digital Art, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, M/M, Oh look i wrote another sad, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, emotional breakdown, onehugechapter, renji-centric, versatile couple, well renji's kind of a tragic guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: The aftermath of their first night was only the beginning.    Read within for a straightforward tale of a dead guy's troubles with a virginal human boyfriend, a downward spiral, and the ever-looming crossroads.    Now with more angst, humor, and sex than ever before.





	Overdue

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy.

After what Ichigo liked to term _‘The Incident’_ and what Renji liked to call ‘ _T_ _he Premature Ejaculation Debacle,’_ Renji had been sworn to secrecy, but as his preferred title of the event suggested, he found the entire thing hilarious.

It’d been several weeks ago now, but the subject was still touchy where Ichigo was concerned. As expected, this meant that Renji still gave him a heap of shit for it – it was basically his job.

Just that morning in fact, when Renji had gotten up for work at the crack of dawn and sat scarfing his breakfast down, Ichigo had brought it up on his own, which was strange in itself…

Anyways, the point was, Renji had teased him mercilessly, because he lived for giving Ichigo hell. Of course, there was also the fact that Ichigo reacted less and less to teasing as the years went by. At fifteen, the slightest provocation or embarrassment could send him into a fit of blushes and angry sputtering – or, just as fun, provoke him into a fight – and now at twenty, it took a bit more effort. Soon he’d be all grown up and too mellowed out to frustrate or needle or tease. Renji had to get it in while he could.

It was weird enough that Ichigo had gotten up when he had, as his lack of set responsibilities allowed him to sleep in until a more reasonable hour, but today he had woken up and eaten with him with one of his usual frowns on his face – although, during Renji’s time together with him, he’d learned to read most of them, and this one was rather quiet and thoughtful.

Finally, he’d said, rather tentatively, “I’m with Rukia this week.”

“Yeah?” Renji hummed as he held his bowl close to his face and scooped food into his mouth. He and Ichigo were close enough that he could eat with his usual rude table manners rather than the careful decorum he observed when around his betters – namely Kuchiki-Taichou. “You can stop by for lunch though.”

“Ahh, sorry, me an’ Rukia already made plans. She an’ I are gonna’ eat by Byakuya’s pond. He got these new fish or something…”

“Mm,” Renji acknowledged, shrugging. He got the feeling that Ichigo was working up to ask him something but was having trouble finding the words. He hedged now that the hesitant tenor to his voice and that thoughtful frown were actually signs of embarrassment.

“But,” Ichigo went on uncertainly, “I thought we could both try to make free time this weekend…” Ahh, there it was. Renji raised an eyebrow, and although he didn’t blush, Ichigo promptly dropped his gaze to the tabletop, picking at the corner where the enamel was wearing off.  “To… y’know…”

Renji hid a grin behind his hand, quickly stuffing his cheeks full with rice and trying not to burst out laughing.

“You know, I mean, so you an’ I can have some time to ourselves… to… that is…”  Ichigo did blush then when he saw Renji looking at him.

Honestly, he didn’t know how Ichigo had lost his shame over their years of waiting and then reclaimed some shyness _after_ they’d finally done it. Really, it was kinda’ cute. All the same, over the past few weeks when Ichigo got all awkward, Renji felt like bluntly reminding him, _‘Hey, look me in the eye. You’ve had your dick inside me.’_

Just thinking about it, Renji’s mouth stretched in a smirk, barely containing laughter, although it did shake his shoulders a bit.

“Well, you know, to…” Ichigo trailed off, rubbing his neck.

“To have sex?” Renji said aloud casually, because the way Ichigo was avoiding saying it meant he was _very_ embarrassed, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him a little.

Ichigo pursed his lips and dropped his eyes, his hands in clenched fists atop each of his knees. After a pause, he gave a single tense nod of his head. Renji let him sweat it out for a few long moments, and then responded with mock reluctance.  

“Hmm,” Renji gave a show of considering. “You sure you can handle it after last time?” He winked. Ichigo didn’t find it as funny as he did, giving him a dark scowl.

“Whatever, I don’t know why I even- Forget it!” he blurted roughly.

“On second thought, I think I can make time for it. I mean, I’m really busy, but it’s not like it’ll take more than-”

“I said forget it, I changed my mind – if you’re gonna’ be such a dick about it…”

“I wonder what Rukia would think,” Renji said, with an amused and joking ‘shame on you’ tone. Ichigo smacked his chopsticks to the table with a sharp huff through his nose, setting his jaw, but Renji went on, smirking. “Or Ishida. I can hear ‘em now. ‘No self-discipline at all, Kurosa-’”

Bright red from frustration and humiliation, Ichigo shouted, _“Renji, you asshole, you’re not gonna’ tell anyone about this!_ ”

Satisfied with getting under his skin to that degree, Renji merely laughed, shoveling food in his mouth and snickering at his young boyfriend’s furious huffing and puffing. “Stop bringing that up already,” he muttered, descending into halfhearted grumbling over his bowl, glaring at Renji all the while.

“Mm.”

“I mean it!”

“Y’know, I only rag on you for it because it’s not a big deal. At least, ta’ me it’s not.”

“Renji,” Ichigo growled sharply.

When Ichigo didn’t accept his genuine attempt to be nice, Renji jibed, “Nothing wrong with equipment malfunction,” which predictably turned Ichigo a furious pink color.

 _“Renji!_ ”

Renji snorted, but conceded to say, “Okay, okay,” because there was a point where being a jerk ceased to be amusing, and he didn’t want to get Ichigo _too_ mad. All the same, he grinned all the way to work, because he didn’t just find The Debacle hilarious. He also found it absolutely adorable.

After morning drills and taking his daily roster from Kuchiki-Taichou, Renji settled in his office to do some deskwork until Rikichi would inevitably come in for help with something or other in a panic. Ichigo’s troubled expression came back to him as he diligently scanned the documents laid out for him.

Funny as it was, he knew that night was a source of deep humiliation for Ichigo, and he wouldn’t have willingly brought it up himself like that without a very good reason. Ever since _The Incident,_ they hadn’t had much time to get it on, and the time they _did_ have, Ichigo wasn’t in the mood for any fun and games, still sulking over his failure.

But he’d brought it up today, or tried to… Maybe he wanted to try and make love again.

Renji took a deep inhale through the nose, clenching his teeth and holding his brush tightly as he signed his name. _‘Of course we’ll make love!’_ He felt pumped up just thinking about it, although the first time had been something of a disaster on Ichigo’s part.

To be honest, Renji felt somewhat frustrated with himself too. His reputation was well-earned, of course, but after _The Debacle,_ he was starting to suspect that he may have lost his touch. Beforehand, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he might not be able to pleasure Ichigo as he has with various others in the past. He had some serious training to do.

Of course it’s also completely adorable and endearing that Ichigo is still shy and unpracticed enough in their new physical relationship that he felt he should _schedule_ their next bout of passion – scheduling these things was a near impossible feat when the both of them were so spontaneous, and it was likely that one of them would jump the gun before then, but regardless, if Friday was the day that Ichigo was ready, then Friday it was.

And since Ichigo was likely still feeling very insecure, but trusting enough to try again, it was Renji’s responsibility to steer them right this time.  _‘I definitely will!’_ he thought with enthusiasm. It’s practically his duty – he has to give Ichigo a night of love he’ll never forget.

Renji got through almost the entirety of his morning paperwork and was ready to go for some tea and check on his subordinates when Rikichi came in earlier than usual with some more reports. Keeping himself from sighing too conspicuously, Renji smiled and delegated a few tasks to him and sent him off again, then grumbled a bit when he was shut alone in his office once more. He enjoyed the fieldwork side of being a lieutenant much more than the bureaucracy side. At least he got out and interacted with the squad a lot more than Kuchiki-Taichou did. He really got why his captain was so stoic; the paperwork that came with leadership was mind-numbing, and admittedly, lonely.

The days Ichigo spent with Rukia, he always started out happy that he’d be able to focus without that fluffy-headed annoyance over there distracting him from his job, but towards the afternoon-end of the day, he’d inevitably miss him, even the annoying distracting parts.

Renji snorted to himself then, shaking his head and half-smiling as he scanned the reports and signed off on the ones that could be sent off, and reorganized the ones he’d need to give to Kuchiki-Taichou. Ichigo _was_ annoying, it was true – in fact, Renji had once hated him, _hated_ him with all the energy and frustration built up within his broken heart over forty years of loneliness and rejection.

Forty fucking years he’d spent working to improve himself, and just as he felt he’d finally gotten his life in order, attained a lieutenancy, and hoped that this was going to be it – that finally everything would be okay with Rukia again – Ichigo had busted in and wrecked everything.

But then… then he’d _fixed_ everything. In fact, he’d fixed it so well that he’d made it even better than before, and after that Renji had made a promise to himself to support Ichigo in everything he did, no matter what – and over time, as Renji had returned the favor and helped Ichigo rescue Orihime from Hueco Mundo, and then accompanied him on a number of other adventures, Renji’s hatred and jealousy and resentment had turned on its head. They’d become friends, they’d fought side by side. They’d done some amazing things together, and had built the trust and respect that grows between comrades in times of adversity.

And then Ichigo had gone on home. His powers had gone away, and for a while, it had been like he’d never existed. People had talked about him a lot, sure, but he and Rukia had not – when they’d had to, he’d been Kurosaki-san or Shinigami-daikou. He hadn’t been _‘Ichigo.’_ He hadn’t been _‘_ _Ichigo-teme,’_ or _‘Ichigo-baka.’_ He hadn’t been theirs.

That’s when it had started. Renji knew himself pretty well, his heart especially, and that’s when he’d had an inkling of what was coming – because once Ichigo was gone, suddenly he and Rukia were spending time together again, and he realized that they’d been doing so for some time, and it was easy. It wasn’t painful anymore. It was like all those years of distance had never happened. They were Renji and Rukia again, and he felt wonderfully whole, his heart _aching_ with the fullness of it.

But there _was_ something else… Something else was missing then. He and Rukia both felt it – because the stubborn scowling sunny-haired kid that had brought them back together and healed all their pains, the boy who’d cut Renji down and taken him to the very bottom and then prodded him on the first step to building himself back up, the one who’d saved their entire world – that person was gone.

He hadn’t fully figured it out until Ichigo had come back. When Renji had seen his face, he'd immediately realized that there had been an empty feeling there that had faded away upon his return. He realized how much he’d missed him, realized that he’d come to love him. That’s when he knew.

His mouth lifted at the corner. He never would’ve expected it after the way their first meeting went, but then, first impressions don’t always stick. Sometimes someone comes into your life and changes everything, and you change everything to absorb them, you improve yourself, you strive to get better. When you love somebody, it stays with you even when you’re apart, sometimes for forty years, sometimes for three.

Although, once Renji had discovered his feelings in the privacy of his heart, he’d only waited until the end of the war to confess them – perhaps in a selfish move, because he’d had an idea that Ichigo had been planning to return to the Living World permanently, as he had when he’d first lost his powers, and hadn’t wanted him to go. It was funny… Renji had decided there was no point telling Ichigo his feelings when the war had been going on, when there had been a very real chance that both of them might die, but afterwards, when both of them would live, he’d decided he must tell him.

He hadn’t expected reciprocation. Telling him had been a matter of honesty and loyalty to a promise to never let things pass him by as he had concerning Rukia. He’d never imagined that maybe Ichigo would feel the same. He’d never thought he deserved something so wonderful as to have his love accepted and to be loved back, and yet, here they were.

_‘But then, he’s always surprised me.’_

Renji continued his deskwork for some time, only pausing to retrieve a cup of tea and a mochi to get him through. He had too much to do today to take a proper lunch break. Sweeping his crumbs off his documents, he pushed his empty plate to the far corner of his desk and reorganized his paper stacks.

He hardly gave a thought to who was stomping down the hall, as people scuttled past constantly throughout the day, sometimes coming in to report any happenings that needed his immediate attention: the newer subordinates in particular relied on him, as he tried to be especially lenient and helpful to them. He could never quite act as coldly or professionally as Kuchiki-Taichou did; he was too much of a softy.

These footsteps were pretty heavy; his crew usually was diligent enough to remember not to run in the halls or make a racket in the office. Instead of passing his room by however, there came a knock at his door. Renji didn’t look up from his work, continuing to sip his tea and read, and before he could call ‘come in,’ the door slid open with a rough swipe of the hand, rattling in the shuttle, and Ichigo waltzed in.

Renji perked up, surprised, but pleased. “Thought you were with Rukia today.” Ichigo shrugged and wandered to the corner, throwing himself on the low-sofa. Renji smirked into his cup and took another drink. Since it was a lieutenant’s office, the room was quite well furnished, but he hardly ever used anything other than his desk; he occasionally opened the doors to the engawa, but not often. Ichigo, whenever he came in here, planted his ass on the sofa there, laying across it with his arms behind his head and one ankle propped on his knee. He did it so often in fact, and so similarly each time, that Renji could imagine it with crisp clarity even when Ichigo wasn’t actually there bugging him.

“Nothin’ interesting going on today, so she sent me off.” Ichigo’s eyes were shut as he lounged, foot bouncing, and his usual scowl was in place, lip jutting out and his brow scrunching cutely. Renji’s smirk grew a bit.

“Sorry, same here. Unless you’re here ta’ nap.”

“Mm,” Ichigo grunted in return, and lay looking at the ceiling for some time, and sometimes one of them would give a comment. Ichigo mentioned the most recent craziness he’d witnessed as he’d traveled past the Eleventh on the way from Rukia’s Division to his.

In the beginning, Renji had been wary whenever Ichigo had come to bum around in here while he was working, not trusting his own willpower to focus on his work and avoid distraction – they’d only had disruptive arguments once or twice, and the embarrassment of being scolded by Kuchiki-Taichou in front of Ichigo was enough to curb any further incident. These days, it was easy to multitask, and in fact, it was even nice to have Ichigo over there, a semi-permanent fixture in his office.

He shifted and cleared his throat the third time his stomach gurgled with hunger, and Ichigo opened an eye, glancing at him with a grimace. “Don’t start,” Renji muttered, knowing Ichigo was about to grill him with the hazards and idiocy of overworking. Ichigo just didn’t understand – he’d only just gotten on better terms with Kuchiki-Taichou and earned his respect. He had to keep working hard!

Ichigo mumbled unintelligibly in response, but let it slide, finally pulling out his Academy text from beneath the sofa and rolling onto his stomach, reading it quietly to himself. “Can I practice out there?” he asked after a time, and Renji glanced up to see him pointing at the doors to the engawa.

He would’ve said yes on reflex, because he liked to do that as often as possible where Ichigo was concerned – after saying no to him for so many difficult years of abstaining, Renji tried to spoil him at every turn now – but he thought of how alike they were in their disastrous kidou spells gone wrong, and imagined the disapproving way Byakuya would look at him for weeks if anything were damaged in the yard on his watch.

“Well… maybe the training ground would be better,” he suggested, “Kuchiki-Taichou wouldn’t like anything in the courtyard to get wrecked.” Ichigo merely sighed through his nose and closed his book.

“Mm. An’ what’re you doing now?”

“Ah, reports. Gotta’… sign these and… delegate where ta’ send them… and such,” he muttered as he got distracted, dragged back into his paperwork. Ichigo grunted in response.

Mostly focused on his work, Renji only vaguely noticed in his periphery when Ichigo got up and sauntered over, presumably to read over his shoulder. Ichigo nudged his hip against Renji’s arm, and he hummed a bit, half lifting his face in acknowledgement, but not letting his eyes drag away from his reports. “You lookin’ for some attention?” Renji finally said, to which Ichigo snorted.

After Ichigo jokingly, but with a note of stubbornness, bumped him again, Renji grinned and leaned back in his chair and looked up at him. It was cute how his default expression was always so serious. Although Ichigo didn’t say anything, Renji easily understood the unspoken request, and tilted his head back to meet Ichigo as he leaned down for a kiss.

“Hmm,” he hummed against Ichigo’s mouth, pecking his lips once more as he separated them. Ichigo didn’t move back, however, leaning one hand over his chair and moving into the space Renji had vacated by leaning back. He kissed Renji again, more firmly, sealing their mouths together, and Renji returned it, a bit more reluctantly. As Ichigo moved into his lap and searched for an embrace, Renji took him in his arms obediently.

It killed him, because he loved to see Ichigo seeking affection so boldly – as eager as he was, he was also rather shy at times, and usually left Renji to initiate. But…

 

 

He glanced towards the door, and as Ichigo paused in confusion, Renji listened anxiously to the silence.

Ichigo frowned and continued to nose at his cheek, pressing his face insistently against Renji’s in an attempt to draw him back in. Renji cleared his throat uncomfortably as Ichigo tried to kiss him some more. He held Ichigo, but dodged his advances, turning his face away, only for Ichigo to clumsily attach his mouth to his neck and then his ear with no skill but the earnestness of someone with genuine affection in their heart. Renji just about melted, really – shit, Ichigo was trying so hard. . . but he was still really uneasy about messing around at the office.

Once more Ichigo made to kiss him on the mouth, but Renji separated them and looked at the door again. Ichigo frowned at his best efforts being denied. “What?” he wondered, “What’s wrong?”

“Captain Kuchiki,” Renji said, worried. “He might-”

Immediately, Ichigo scowled deeply and cut him off, groaning, “Uggh.” He got up, leaving Renji’s arms. Renji watched him stomp away a few steps, frowning and fidgeting.

“Ichigo, you aren’t mad, are you?” he muttered, admittedly embarrassed. He knows Ichigo doesn’t appreciate his attitude about how one should behave in the workplace or towards one’s boss, but it’s important to him that he not look a fool to Kuchiki-Taichou.

“Whatever, forget it,” Ichigo brushed off with an exasperated tone, leaving it there. Damnit, not the pretending-it-doesn’t-matter game, anything but that! Renji huffed in frustration.

“Ichigo, c’mon!”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Dude!” Renji insisted, “Don’t!”

Ichigo ignored him, but deigned to approach the other side of his desk and look down at him. Renji grimaced up at him, eyes narrowed, and Ichigo stared blandly back. “Anyway, forgot to tell you I’m gonna’ be spending some time in Karakura.”

“You’re going?” Renji’s face fell. “Ichigo, c’mon, don’t be like that, you know I can’t mess around in here.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Ichigo smirked, “I was going anyway.”

“Oh… How long?” Renji wondered, trying not to show his displeasure on his face. It made him nervous when Ichigo went back there. He knew it was selfish and stupid and _insecure_ to dislike Ichigo going away from him, and he knew that only a weak man was insecure in a relationship and that to be worried implied a lack of trust, but those thoughts were still there in this dark sad corner of his heart. Part of him felt that Karakura was where Ichigo truly belonged, and one day Ichigo would realize that too and decide to get serious about making his life there, and he’d start coming back less and less, maybe even decide to finish being a shinigami-daikou for good – he’d finish with _Renji_ for good. Renji had no illusions that this would last forever, and he didn’t like to think that it might already be time to give Ichigo up.

Of course, he didn’t say those things out loud. He’d confessed a little of those fears to Ichigo before, that he didn’t like him going, but he felt it wasn’t fair to put that much pressure on a person, to let him know how much he worried and how sad he felt when Ichigo was gone for too long. Ichigo had to have his own life, and if he wanted to see his family and friends, or go to work or school, he should be able to do those things, to do all the things normal people did.

And hey, if in time Ichigo found that Karakura was the right place for him and decided to stay there permanently, he should be able to do that too. Renji would be happy for him, of course. He wanted this amazing young burst of energy and potential to have everything he wanted. He wanted Ichigo to have all his dreams. It’s just, even in being happy for Ichigo, he would be sad to be apart, and bittersweet things always give Renji a stomachache.

Ichigo hummed a bit, as if he hadn’t decided on specific departure times, and just had a vague idea of his visit – as he often did. “Mm, a week or so, I think.” Renji nodded a bit awkwardly, not having anything to say, because if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t speak. At his silence, Ichigo offered, “You can visit if you like.”

Renji blinked, and replied on reflex. “I do like – I mean, I will,” he amended.

“If _Kuchiki-Taichou_ will let you, you mean,” Ichigo grumbled sarcastically.

“Hey,” Renji complained, glaring at him at his sarcastic tone. “I’ll work hard, and then ask to take a day with you.”

“Hmph,” Ichigo grunted, folding his arms in a satisfied manner, but still scowling quite hard.

Renji sighed, leaning on his fist. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“… No. Just frustrated. I’d hoped to have some more time, because… Well… what I said before about this weekend… I want- …” His face flushed violently as suddenly as it always did, as if it were a signal as to the topic he was about to broach. “I want to try again,” he managed.

Renji gazed at him open-mouthed, in fascination. “… Oh,” he said, and Ichigo went even redder, if it were possible. He turned hastily and rubbed at the back of his head, scrubbing his fluffy hair with his nails.

“… Been practicing some stuff,” he mumbled, “so… so you practice too.” Renji just continued staring, amazed. Seeming unable to stand another second in the room, too overcome with shyness, Ichigo refused to look at him directly as he gave a small awkward wave and shuffled towards the door.

“… I’ll see you soon. Keep at it,” Ichigo encouraged, “Try your best.”

“Yeah,” Renji stared after him for a moment. “I’ll definitely work hard! I will try my best,” he promised, and couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that he’d just been seduced. That blushing, stuttered, red-faced admission that he’d been _practicing_ so that they could get it right this time they tried making love had invariably been seduction.

The thoughts of spreading Ichigo open beneath him and putting their practice to good use sped him through the rest of his work.

Because not only was the whole mess hilarious and adorable – he also found it really, really… sexy.

. . .

Ichigo had gone a few days prior, and it was about time for Renji to follow him. True to his promise, he’d worked very hard and Kuchiki-Taichou had agreed to give him a free day – although he suspected the treadmill would await his return. Nevertheless, he was going to go the following morning.

He figured he’d try to talk to someone before he went.

Truly, he’d had just about enough of his peers, and he’s still a bit shifty and reserved around many of them. Most have laid off by this point, yet, forgiving soul though he was, he couldn’t quite forget the things they’d said to mess with him. He knew they didn’t have malice in their hearts and were only having a bit of fun, but it hadn’t been fun to him, not at all.

In the beginning, he’d been able to brush it off with ease for about a week, knowing it was their duty as his friends and colleagues to give him some shit, and he’d gotten the typical ‘loverboy’ and ‘cradle-robber’ remarks, but he’d just laughed it off. It was easy to do that when his nights with Ichigo were so quiet and peaceful, it was easy when he saw Ichigo look at him with eyes so bright and openly adoring. How could it be wrong when what was between them was such a pure and wonderful feeling? Renji knew his intentions were good, he knew in his heart he wasn’t out to do harm to Ichigo, that he would never crush that lovely innocent thing Ichigo had seen fit to share with him.

But it had kept happening, and from there, when none of it had bothered him, they’d had to keep getting more extreme, until the jokes had finally taken on a vaguely sinister tone. It was mostly his old buds from Squad Eleven, to be honest; many of them saw him as a little brother and pushed the boundaries further than most. He’d spent a long time there, after all, grown from a reckless and eager to prove himself boy into a man, and the guys there knew him well, knew how to rile him and get under his skin, and rile him they did.

Even most of those, Renji could brush off, general jokes about him being a pervert, but then it had escalated rather suddenly. There’d been this moment when he and Ichigo had been together, and some of them had started telling Ichigo – in jest, of course – to watch out for himself and keep an eye on Renji. They’d told Ichigo not to sit on his lap, that if Renji were to try to convince him to sit on his lap, he should say no, just say no!

Renji had been so shocked that he hadn’t known what to say, instead staring mutely, his heart sinking.

And although Ichigo didn’t seem to realize the significance of the joke, merely raging at them to lay off and stop teasing him or he’d kick their asses, Renji thought of those words and what they meant all night, he thought of when he’d been an orphan in the Rukongai and the bad things that had happened, the type of person he was being compared to.

Here he’d been, it never even having occurred to him that what he and Ichigo had might be seen in that light, because there wasn’t even a hint of malice in his heart, it being too full with affection for Ichigo – here he’d been, it never even having crossed his mind that loving Ichigo was wrong, and his fucking friends had told Ichigo not to sit on his lap, as if Ichigo were a little boy and he were a…

But no, he couldn’t be! He wasn’t! He wasn’t like that!

He’d managed to ignore it from then, but there had been a vague note of uneasiness deep in his gut that he kept disregarding. Maybe it had been selfish, but those moments with Ichigo in the night, when he would shyly scootch towards him and snuggle his head against his leg or tentatively touch their fingers together when he thought no one was looking, Renji didn’t want to give that up. Something that felt so nice couldn’t be wrong.

It wasn’t until Ikkaku confronted him rather directly about it, under the guise of a joke, that Renji had seen himself clearly for the first time. Overcome with the realization that he’d become what he hated most, he’d felt sick with himself, he’d wanted to crawl out of his skin. He was a… a _child predator._ God, what had he been thinking? How could he not have thought that this was wrong? How could he not have seen inside himself and realized he was making excuses for exploiting a minor? He’d swindled Ichigo, he’d taken advantage of his young inexperienced heart for his own selfish sick reasons. The feelings he had were _wrong._ He was a horrible disgusting man for thinking and feeling those things.

In that moment of realization he’d had to look at himself and examine the intentions in his heart, and he didn’t like what he saw.

And the next time Ichigo had looked at him with those eyes and that warm beautiful enamored look that a boy got when he was feeling those things for the first time, when Renji saw that, he felt disgusted with himself. He hadn’t been able to bear it.

It had never been his intention to lead Ichigo astray, to hurt him; he’d never wanted to have to break a heart or destroy that fragile lovely thing that was a first love, but he couldn’t stand to become that disgusting loathsome person. He couldn’t let it go on any longer, because he did love and care for Ichigo, and he had to stay away from him, couldn’t let himself twist and damage him any more than he had.

Ending it had hurt, but what had been worse was seeing Ichigo bloodied, storming away with tears on his cheeks. That had been like physically digging his innards out with his nails.

After that awful night, Ichigo had gone away, and there had been no reasonable expectation that he would ever come back. Renji had gone to Rukia in broken-hearted shambles – and the first thing she’d said to him when she learned of it, _even Rukia_ who knew him so well, who knew his heart and who knew that he’d _never, never_ – even _she_ had said, _‘_ _You always were a fool like that, falling in love with a human child.’_

Whatever comforts she’d attempted afterwards, all Renji could hear was, _‘Child, child, child, a child, such a fool, such a dirty rotten fool-’_

It had taken him a long time to feel that he could heal from those things, to recover from his closest friends condemning what had been a great joy for him. He’d shown them the lovely innocent thing he and Ichigo shared and that he _cherished_ , and they’d scorned it, and there had come a day when he’d no longer trusted himself.

And of course, just like always, when Renji got in a slump and didn’t know which way to turn, Ichigo was the one to drag him up and snap him out of it.

Eventually, Ichigo had brought him out of his gloom of self-hatred, and he’d had a lot of talks with Rukia, because of course she _did_ approve and he’d only taken her meaning the wrong way when he’d been a fog of despair, but those feelings had lingered as before, a vague uneasiness in the pit of his gut.

Once he’d accepted that he and Ichigo could work through this and that being together felt natural because it _was_ right, Renji only had one option left, which was to stop fighting it. This time though, he was going to follow his heart, and his heart told him to take things slow – _very, very slow._

Despite giving in to the unstoppable tide of their feelings, Ichigo was still young, and he was still the adult; he had to take responsibility for Ichigo’s heart, and he had to take care of him, he had to be cautious.

Thankfully, Ichigo had felt it worth it to wait it out and had _clung_ to Renji like a puppy to its first human, as if afraid he’d be sent away again on account of his young age - and Renji, protective of Ichigo’s remaining naivety, had made sure he never found out why he’d ever separated them in the first place.

He never told Ichigo about those things, because he didn’t need to know, he didn’t need that lovely thing crushed. Renji had never told him how many jokes and jibes and glares he’d received – _still_ occasionally received – and took the rest of it with dignity. He knew it would upset Ichigo to know how little everyone actually approved.

Renji had tried to change his mindset. Instead of letting the gossip make him turn inward and wonder if he was a predator, instead of feeling guilty that since he was the older one, it was on him to end Ichigo’s young crush, it was up to him to let Ichigo down gently and not entertain his feelings – instead of that, Renji tried to take strength from it in his new resolution to hold off on deflowering Ichigo until he was hatachi, down to the day.

Because he _was_ the older one, and being older, the burden of responsibility in their relationship was upon him. He didn’t truly think Ichigo was particularly naive, but he was inexperienced, and if Renji were a cruel or dirty man with malice in his heart, he could certainly manipulate Ichigo’s emotions fairly easily. No, he was Ichigo’s first love, and Renji took that heavily upon his shoulders and his heart. He could never hurt him and destroy that fragile beautiful thing again, but he also couldn’t take away the last days of Ichigo’s childhood, the innocence of his youth.

He knew Ichigo would clobber him if he’d ever heard him describe his virginity as such, which was why he’d never said it aloud. Renji doesn’t usually think of love or virginity as a flower, but maybe he’s idealized Ichigo, too blinded by his adoration and tender feelings to see him as he did other people.

Anyways, even now that Ichigo was technically of age, Renji still felt that way about his responsibility – because he was still so young, _so, so young_. It was incumbent upon him, maybe not to protect Ichigo’s virtue, but now that they were lovers, it was upon him to make Ichigo happy and love him right.

Never mind that the whole of Soul Society would wreak its revenge upon him if he did, but Renji didn’t think he could bear it if another tear welled up in Ichigo’s eyes on his account.

Thinking about it now, Renji frowned as he walked the streets, searching fruitlessly for the friend he felt he could talk to about his current predicament.

Even these days, Renji sometimes felt a ghost of guilt. If he gets too nostalgic or thinks on Ichigo for too long, he sees how young he is, how free and unmarred he is despite the tragedies that peppered his life, and Renji feels, maybe not dirty, but selfish. He tried not to think like that anymore, because he’d promised Ichigo he wouldn’t, and usually he was happy enough that he could avoid those feelings. Having Ichigo in his arms usually chased it away.

Truly now, Ichigo wasn’t a boy any longer though, at least in the face of the law, and Renji did feel responsible to him. He’d planned for Ichigo’s first time; after making him wait for _so long_ , he’d planned to pleasure him to tears, _the good kind._

Well, that hadn’t quite gone to plan, and what was worse was after _‘The Debacle,’_ Ichigo had retreated, having lost his confidence. He reacted with much more embarrassment than he ever had, even before they’d started to get intimate. In fact, at the sight of Renji undressing, he’d blush like mad and look away and stutter, and he’d never done that before, _ever._ Renji had given him his space to work out whatever he needed to work out, seeing as it was a sensitive issue, and expected that when Ichigo was ready for another try, he’d come forward and say so.

Of course, now Ichigo _had_ said so, that he wanted to try and make love again – _soon_ – and as Renji thought of how he could make it wonderful for him, he started to acknowledge that he’d had a lapse in judgement. They’d been doing fine before because he’d insisted on starting slow, warming Ichigo up to different things and taking time not to jump straight in.

Well then of course, Ichigo had convinced him to move forward prematurely, and maybe he’d jumped the gun. He hadn’t gotten Ichigo used to penetration. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but now he suspected Ichigo hadn’t done so much as finger himself during masturbation prior to that night, and really, it made sense that he might not enjoy it their first time together. He should’ve stuck to the plan and resisted Ichigo’s eagerness – it was his responsibility as the experienced one to know what was best!

But did he?... He didn’t quite know where to go from here. He’d put his best effort forward that night and Ichigo had struggled and suffered through it, and Renji wanted better for him. It seemed his skills had degraded significantly…

He’d thought and thought about what he could do differently next time they try, the next time Ichigo gives him a chance to make love to him even though the first time had been quite a disappointment – well no, Renji wasn’t disappointed in Ichigo at all, despite his early finish, but he still felt let down with himself that he hadn’t been able to pleasure Ichigo right.

Renji knew that for a first time, it was best if Ichigo would get on his hands and knees and let him penetrate him from behind, but Renji knew Ichigo – he knew that if things weren’t right or if it hurt, Ichigo would take advantage of his face-down position and hide his pain to avoid disappointing him a second time, and Renji wouldn’t have that. Maybe when he was fingering Ichigo to relax him, he could try using his tongue, maybe he’d like that.

Ah, he wasn’t sure. He wanted to talk it out and bounce his ideas off someone else, and there was only one guy he could talk to about this.

Now, Renji was a sociable guy with many friends, and got along swimmingly with nearly everyone, and he liked to talk his problems out most of the time, this being no exception. Renji felt there was no shame in discussing sex with trustworthy outsiders – not that he’d say anything private about Ichigo, though.

He’d asked Hisagi to meet him tonight for a conversation and some drinking, and by that evening, he’d sought him out with the required liquor. They could at least discuss it, man to man.

Normally, concerning worldly advice, Renji would’ve asked Ikkaku, but with Yumichika away on business at the moment, he was in a bad temper. Despite that, even, Renji probably wouldn’t have mentioned it to Ikkaku anyways. He’d used to go to him with nearly everything, since he’d been his mentor during the years when he hadn’t had Rukia to go to, but Renji hadn’t quite forgotten the party at Squad Eleven and the disgusted disappointed way Ikkaku had looked at him… He still felt vaguely sick and ashamed when he thought of it.

He knows that Ikkaku-san probably hadn’t meant to have such an effect on him, but he had. Renji took his advice very seriously.

According to Yumichika, Ikkaku had changed his tune since then and seemed to have accepted that Renji’s feelings were true and would stand the test of time – he knew about Renji’s plan to abstain until Ichigo grew up, and Renji suspected he approved of the plan enough that he forgave Renji’s predatory feelings. Even so, if it was avoidable, Renji didn’t want to talk to him about it. He didn’t want to let him down again.

Besides, if Renji asked him anything about sex, Ikkaku would give him a load of shit for it and probably wouldn’t even answer. Renji idolized Ikkaku to a degree, but he suspected he’d never had more than one partner. He’d do better asking Yumichika, really – but that would get back to Ikkaku too. They weren’t the right ones for this.

Rukia was also out of the question. It’s not that they didn’t know each other well enough to talk about sex, it’s just that he knew Ichigo would absolutely _die_ if he found out he’d talked to Rukia about their sex life.

It wasn’t even that he was closer to Hisagi-san than he was to Ikkaku, it was just, they were closer in age, and although Hisagi and Ikkaku were both his senpai, he and Hisagi had fostered a more familiar relationship. Besides, Hisagi hadn’t made too many comments about his play for Ichigo from the very start, so…

Plus there was the fact that he could talk to Hisagi about sex because they’d had sex… a bunch of times… in the past.

Anyway, sure enough, when he and Hisagi met, they got right into drinking and talking, and Hisagi didn’t so much as turn a hair when Renji told him what he’d asked him here to discuss.

“He won’t let you do it?” Hisagi surmised, and Renji had to grimace at the irony. After he and Ichigo had gotten back together, the general consensus of the rumors propagating about Seireitei had been that Ichigo was frigid. Even now, everyone seemed to assume that he was the one coaxing Ichigo for sex, when really it had _always_ been the other way around entirely. Well, only Rukia and Ichigo had really known that part, because Renji hadn’t been eager to talk about it before and had just let people assume that he was the instigator.

“What, did you go to do it and he backed out?”

“We did try,” Renji muttered, taking a drink and passing the bottle back. Ikkaku was better for this game, because Hisagi didn’t drink nearly enough on his turn, preferring to watch the other get drunk and stupid at a quicker rate than his own – despite that annoyance, he was a good listener, so Renji didn’t mind so much. “He was really excited for it, actually, but then I… well, I disappointed him.”

“You blew your load too fast?”

 _“No._ Be serious.” Hisagi gave a bit of a smile, which Renji didn’t appreciate in the slightest, because the past should stay in the past, as funny as it might seem to _some_ people.

“So you had a go.” Renji nodded cautiously. “An’ he hated it, did he?” Hisagi wondered.

“Well, it’s not that he hated it. He…” Renji pursed his lips and mumbled, “He didn’t enjoy it.”

“Your massive hard-on spooked him off?” Hisagi could be a serious guy, as goofy as he got at times with his newspaper editing and guitar lessons, and sometimes Renji wished he wouldn’t say those things with such a level casual tone, as if it was about the weather.

“Well, he didn’t say anything about that, so-”

“He probably doesn’t have any point of comparison then.”

“Hey! My dick’s normal sized!”

“You were probably too rough, huh?”

“No!” Renji insisted with a scowl, because he’d used the greatest care and gentleness. He’d never be rough on somebody’s first time, what kind of idiot…?

He cleared his throat then when Hisagi raised a questioning eyebrow. “It doesn’t have to hurt for it to be bad,” Renji explained, grimacing. “As you know damn well.”

“Oh, so you _do_ admit that you remember.”

“I don’t admit anything,” Renji replied flatly, “and stop screwing around! This is serious!” He gave him a pointed look, at which Hisagi tried not to smile, but then he burst out in laughter. Renji couldn’t help but laugh as well for a little while.

“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself,” he teased, leaning back and taking a drink, and Renji smiled a bit wryly as he listened to Hisagi reminisce. “We whipped you into shape. An’ now look at you. Best lover around.”

“Not anymore,” he muttered woefully. “Look, really, it ended alright, but Ichigo was embarrassed. Can’t even look at me with my shirt off now.”

“Shame.”

“Ha-ha. Anyway, I’m going to his house tomorrow-”

“And you’re gonna’ try again,” Hisagi concluded. Renji nodded. This is why they’re friends – Hisagi understands him!

“An’ I don’t want him to just lie there and think of England.” Renji scowled a bit just thinking about it. Hisagi frowned lightly.

“... What does that mean? I don’t know what that means.”

“I want him to enjoy it.”

“And so what’re you asking me exactly? I dunno’ what you’re asking me to do,” Hisagi sighed, leaning back and taking a drink when Renji gave him the bottle with a tired look. “You’ve got more experience than I do.” He snorted. “Funny that it used to be the other way around.”

“Oh c’mon.”

“You’ve always had that charm. God knows how far you sowed your wild oats. So what do you want _me_ to say? You forgot how to do that thing with your tongue?”

“No.”

“Then what.”

“I dunno’,” Renji shrugged. “Wanted to say it out loud, I guess.”

Hisagi looked at him with that calm mature air he had, and then leadingly said, “It’s not something everyone likes,” as if to make him feel better.

“I know,” Renji said, but he didn’t want to give up like that after the first time. There must be something wrong in his technique if he hadn’t been able to make Ichigo feel good. If it went on for the next few times, maybe he’d accept that Ichigo just didn’t like being penetrated, but for now he chalked it up to his own failings to understand how to make Ichigo’s body sing with pleasure.

“But,” Hisagi suggested, “He could just have to get used to it.”

Buddies that they were, they often had similar thoughts, but now Renji wondered about Hisagi’s first statement of Ichigo just not being built to like it in the first place, and the thought of continuing to make him try to like it made him feel bad.

“I don’t want him to have to get _used_ to something that he _doesn’t like,_ ” he grumbled.

Hisagi hummed back in thought, took a drink, then, in another echo of his earlier thoughts, offered, “Have you tried doing it with him on his knees and you behind?” He vaguely gestured with his hands, and then said, “It’s easiest.”

“I thought of that, but he’ll try to hide it if it hurts.” Renji huffed and rested his chin on his hand. “I’ve gotta’ see him,” he explained.

“Mm.”

Renji sighed and grumbled, “I can’t think what else. I tried my hardest and still nothin’. He’s upset about it too, thinks it’s his fault… I just don’t want him to get discouraged.”

“You’ll come up with something,” Hisagi encouraged, raising the bottle towards him and smirking on one side. “If you learned how to do anything right, you learned how to fuck.”

“Why do you sound mature no matter what you say?”

Hisagi shook his head and laughed. “Wish Muguruma-Taichou thought so.” He offered a grin, and all at once Renji remembers how he’d charmed all the cute girls and made the boys swoon with his serious bad-boy demeanor back in their academy days. He remembers how Hisagi Shuuhei had been exactly what he’d needed to cope with the loneliness when he and Rukia had drifted apart.

“And you _will_ figure things out. We both know that with enough effort and passion, skill follows naturally.”

“Thanks.”

“Do your best.”

Renji was coaxed into a smile. “I’ll do my best,” he agreed.

. . .

Once Renji came through to the Living World, he’d almost thought to climb through Ichigo’s window to surprise him and tease him about the old times, but Ichigo was already waiting for him in the Shoten’s yard with that blue-hair guy.

“There you are,” Ichigo noted, scowling as he stood from where he’d been laying on the ground. The Arrancar what’s-his-name glared daggers at Renji, but he ignored him in favor of grinning at the unmistakable way Ichigo’s face had lit up at the sight of him – before he’d hidden it with his usual frown, of course.

Even it having only been a few days, Renji enjoyed seeing him again, especially when he was in his human clothes: a long-sleeve and pants that were as slim-fit as ever.

“Were you waiting for me?” Renji teased a little, tilting his head, to which Ichigo kicked the ground a bit, and the Arrancar curled his lip a little, showing his teeth.

“Whatever, let’s go,” Ichigo blustered, walking off with his hands in his pockets. Renji grinned, but didn’t say anything, and followed him as they headed back together.

Ichigo let him in the front door and showed him up to his room, which was necessary because Renji hadn’t ever really come up to his room through the house, always having popped through the window before. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of, but I’ll be there in a minute.”

“’Kay,” Renji mumbled as Ichigo stepped back out and left him alone in his room. Renji smiled at the sight of Ichigo’s bed and desk, his things stowed away neatly as always. His room smelled like him. He sat cross-legged on the bed and looked around fondly until Ichigo came back.

“You feel like having dinner with my family? They’ll be back in a bit,” Ichigo noted as he came in and shut the door behind him. Renji put his arms behind his head, leaning against the wall.

“I never turn down a meal,” he said agreeably. “I will if you want me to.”

Ichigo walked over to his desk and sat down in the chair, swiveling to face him. “No, what I meant was… Well, maybe they might go somewhere else, if we wanted the place to ourselves.”

Deliberately pretending he didn’t know what he meant for the sole purpose of embarrassing him, Renji hummed, “They’ll go somewhere else all night long?”

Ichigo glared at him. “You know what I mean,” he grumbled, and sure enough, his ears started to turn red.

“Hm?”

“Renji.”

“Fine, fine, okay,” he laughed, “But y’know, I like your family. Your sisters were always nice to me. Do you think it’s a good idea?” Ichigo shrugged noncommittally. “You wouldn’ta’ brought it up if you didn’t want me to, would you?”

“I just didn’t know if… that was a step you’d want to take,” Ichigo said a bit awkwardly.

Renji stared at him for a moment with his mouth open, trying to read his expression. Ichigo dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “How long’ve you been thinkin’ about this for, huh?”

Ichigo shrugged again, making an ‘I don’t know’ sound. “A while, I guess. Just came to mind that we haven’t spent time together as a -” He cleared his throat sharply, shaking his head, clearly having not meant to say what he’d just said. “I meant…”

Renji stared for a bit, but then bloomed into a smile. “… C’mere,” he said lowly. Ichigo ducked his head and looked away. “C’mere, come sit by me, you little shit.”

Ichigo did, but still wouldn’t look at him.

He wanted to tell Ichigo how happy he made him from day to day, how precious he was, how sweet and kind and loving he is and how it warmed Renji’s heart. He wanted to spoil him rotten and make up for all the grief he’d ever given him because of his dumb hangups.

“C’mere,” he whispered, voice lowering as he put an arm around Ichigo’s neck to draw him in, taking his other hand in his.

“Geez, don’t be so embarrassing,” Ichigo mumbled back, swiping at his nose once or twice as he looked away but squeezed back with his sweaty fingers. Renji’s mouth twisted in a grin.

“So, yeah, maybe go with your idea,” Renji continued, leaning forward to nose at the side of Ichigo’s head, letting his lips brush his ear as he coaxed him to return his affection. Ichigo did bring his other hand to where he held Renji’s, tracing the back of his knuckles with a finger.

“What? What’s that mean?”

Renji nuzzled against his hair and hummed at the attention. He loved to be touched, and contentedly basked in even a small amount of reciprocity. “Ichigo, your family’s great, but you make a good case for skipping dinner.”

“Don’t be stupid! I wasn’t saying we’d skip eating! I’m saying I’d try to get them to leave for the night afterwards!”

“How you gonna’ swing that?”

“There’s fireworks going on by the river later, I dunno’.”

“Mm.”

“An’ then… then we can have the house to ourselves,” Ichigo noted with a sense of caution, even deigning to smile a little bit, thoroughly charming him.

“Glad to hear you want to give it another go.” Renji grinned, continuing to touch him and try to envelop him in an embrace, but Ichigo kept sitting at the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, fending him off. “Thought I’d scared you off, maybe.”

“What? I,” Ichigo cleared his throat, “I thought you… well… I thought maybe I did so bad that _you_ didn’t wanna’ do it anymore… I thought that’s why you hadn’t tried to… uh...”

Renji opened his mouth and stared for a moment. “Aw, dude, no way! No way would I get turned off over something that dumb! I’m tellin’ you, you’re the only one who thinks your P.E. problem is an issue – I seriously don’t care, Ichigo, I thought it was hot.”

“Dude, stop,” Ichigo insisted, redfaced. “And don’t call it P.E.”

“-clenching up and cumming inside a’ me like that, and the fucking sound you made-”

“Stop, it’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah, well you’re right, I should’ve been spending the whole a’ tha’ past weeks trying to seduce you.”

“...”

“Was stupid not to.”

Ichigo had warmed up to him considerably by then. He was taking the teasing with some dignity and had a knowing look in his eye, like he knew that it got to Renji when he gave him that coy smile and goaded him on with just the right amount of young eagerness and tentative shyness, like he knew he was testing his willpower to resist.

“… You were an idiot, you mean?” Ichigo said with a bit of a sly quirk to his lip, eyes sparkling at him. Renji smiled back, warm and lenient in his affection. He must be getting soft in his old age…

Of course, now that Renji didn’t _have_ to resist, he didn’t think he could if he wanted to. He couldn’t really – he was weak for Ichigo’s charms. Every time he looked into his face, he saw the beauty of a boy’s first love, the sweet, clean, plainness of his heart and the strength with which it cried out for his affection – even when he was being a little shit.

“Who’s an idiot,” Renji murmured indulgently.

“You,” Ichigo whispered back, smiling wider, and finally Renji bridged the gap between them and took him in his arms. Ichigo seemed to melt into his embrace, going soft and pliable at every muscle, compliant and willing in a way he seldom was when he spoke, the obstinate stubborn brat that he could be at times.

They kissed and Renji held Ichigo’s cheek with one hand, caressing his body with the other. Ichigo’s hands gripped at his back, clenching the fabric of his shirt as he kissed back blindly, eyes sweetly closed. With a heady hum, Renji touched him and held him, tilting his head to better slide his tongue against Ichigo’s.

“Hahh,” Ichigo gasped against his lips, and Renji gave him a final sucking kiss before withdrawing and burying his face against Ichigo’s neck, latching on and running a hand through Ichigo’s hair to maximize the pins and needles and the tingling sensation. Sure enough, Ichigo froze, breathless for a moment.

Renji fondled him, and smiled a bit at Ichigo’s resounding choked moan. Already hard, Renji noted – Ichigo was so easily excited.

“You wanted us to make love tonight,” Renji breathed into his ear, rubbing his face against Ichigo’s neck. “I’m gonna’ make love to you all night long.”

Ichigo’s fingertips dug into his back and Renji felt that he couldn’t wait for this evening. For a moment he wished that he’d told Ichigo to send his family away after all…

“I’m gonna’ ravish you,” he promised. “I’m gonna’ chew you up like surume,” Renji growled lowly, holding him tight. Ichigo snorted at that.

“Can you not talk about food?” he mumbled, separating them and standing up from the bed to straighten his clothes. Renji let his arms linger against him, reaching out for him. “You’re making me hungry.”

“I’m starving,” he hummed with a roguish grin, squeezing Ichigo on the bottom, only to have Ichigo snort and shove his face with the palm of his hand, which sent him into peals of laughter.

Ichigo smiled a bit at him, before it became more uncertain. “I do wanna’ do stuff, but…” he began, “only if you won’t be a bastard about it,” he mumbled petulantly, with a sulky frown, his eyes shifting to the side.

“I dunno’ what you mean.”

Ichigo hissed, “It’s _embarrassing_ ,” and then Renji did feel a little bit bad for all the teasing he’d been putting him through. Of course, after _The P.E. Debacle_ , Ichigo couldn’t very well expect him not to tease him _at all_ , but maybe the joke had run its course.

“Look, I’m trying my best here, stop being an ass.”

“Okay, okay, I promise,” Renji said solemnly. “No dicking around.” He smirked and gave Ichigo’s ass a pointed glance. “Well, some.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but was coaxed into smiling. “Not until after dinner. Behave ‘till then.”

“I’ll try to contain myself. Since apparently I’m a wild beast who can’t _‘behave_.’”

“Glad we’re agreed.”

“Fuck you, Ichigo.”

“Whatever, they’re here. Time to bounce.”

. . .

Dinner went great, other than the fact that one of Ichigo’s sisters couldn’t see him – which didn’t detract from her sweetness and her polite manners, as she still tried very hard to engage him in conversation. If she hadn’t won him over immediately with her cooking, calling him ‘Renji-nii’ certainly did it. Karin, of course, was just like her brother, so what’s not to love? There was also the matter of eating dinner with Isshin Shiba, who – in contrast to Renji’s preconceptions that he was a respected and powerful ex-captain – turned out to be a crazy person.

Or so he’d thought, until after dinner when Ichigo told his family to just go on to the fireworks show without them, they were going to stay in, and the girls had wanted to stay with them out of hospitality – and then, Isshin had convinced them to go, as if he somehow knew what his son had planned.

Which was kind of scary. Because although he winked at Ichigo when he and the girls were leaving and sent Ichigo into fits of redfaced sputtering anger in which he shoved at his dad and tried to boot him out the door, he also gave Renji this steely dark look, which straightened his spine and gave him goosebumps.

Again, there was this lingering sense of guilt and a general feeling of being a bad person as Ichigo kicked the door shut. Then Ichigo exhaled, looked at him with a sort of relieved excitement, took his hand, and led him up to his bedroom.

Of course, he’d promised not to bother Ichigo with his feelings of doubt anymore, so once Ichigo let go of his hand and took a step away, inhaling and wiggling all over with anticipation, clearly waiting for something, Renji gave him what he wanted and grabbed him. No sense of being guilty tonight.

Ichigo gave a long sigh through his nose and eagerly leaned forward to meet him in a kiss; he was so sweet, so wonderful, Renji was enamored with him. He couldn’t believe such a strong-willed principled loyal guy could open his heart up so much to him, could freely adore and trust him so much.

Almost right away, Ichigo cleared his throat and moved back a bit, looking down compulsively even though Renji held their bodies together tightly enough that he couldn’t see down between their chests. Point was, Ichigo was already hard, which had Renji crack a large grin of satisfaction.

“Ready to go, huh.”

“Uhh… one sec’,” Ichigo said, coughing afterwards insecurely, and pulled away. Renji watched as he went to his closet and rifled around on the high shelf.

He untied his bandanna and let his hair down, ruffling it out as he walked towards the bed, waiting there as Ichigo closed his closet with inexplicably red cheeks and a tube in his hand that he awkwardly tossed towards the bed. Renji glanced at it, turning it so he could read ‘ _Nuru Gel.’_

When he looked back up with a smirk, Ichigo scowled at his feet and half-turned away, lifting his arms to take his shirt off. “You gonna’ rub your body on me?” Renji picked up the bottle and read more on the back, his grin growing.

Ichigo hunched his shoulders and unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down a little bit till they caught on his hips, tight as they were. “No,” he grumbled. “You know what it’s for. I told you I’ve been… _training,_ ” he whispered.

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“You said you wouldn’t be a dick!” Ichigo blurted, putting his hands in his armpits self-consciously and stopping short of leaning down to take his socks off. “And why aren’t you taking off _your_ clothes?!”

“Okay, okay, relax. Why’re you so wound up?” Renji opened the front of his yukata and slipped it off his shoulders, leaving it tucked in at the waist, and Ichigo’s scowl lessened in satisfaction, his eyes flicking shyly over his musculature.

“… Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” Renji promised.

“…” Ichigo fidgeted a little, but didn’t spill it, and Renji, growing impatient, reached a hand out to hook a finger through Ichigo’s beltloop to tug him in a few steps. “Okay!” Ichigo scrubbed his hands on his face and mumbled, “Wanted to… try some stuff.”

“… Yeah?” Renji wondered, releasing Ichigo and looking up at him from where he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled idly at his belt ties and watched him squirm. Renji was interested now, what was his Ichigo's fantasy?

“Yeah,” Ichigo repeated. “That thing you said, about how next time you’d satisfy me,” he said very quietly, looking at the floor, “I want to- I mean, for you I want to… do the same thing.”

Renji hummed his acknowledgement, and when there was no moment of shock or burst of laughter, Ichigo peeked an eye up. “You’ve been planning to try an’ pleasure me?” Renji wondered, tilting his head with a smile as he felt his insides do a warm somersault. “You are just so…”

“Whatever,” Ichigo dismissed, “Whatever.”

Renji snickered through his nose and pulled his yukata out of his waistband, throwing it to the side. “You’re gonna’ do what you want to me, huh? No way I can get out of it?”

“… Yeah,” Ichigo said cautiously, then growing in confidence, he said again, “Yeah, I'm in charge a’ you. And you tell me what you like, so I can do it better, or whatever.”

Renji barely held in a snort, throwing himself backwards on Ichigo’s bed with the gel tube, arms behind his head. “Come an’ get me then.”

Ichigo cleared his throat and went closer to his closet again, opening the door and tossing his shirt in there, then turned away modestly and leaned down to pull the ankles of his pants loose, then slid his legs out of them. Renji admired the smooth curve of his back and the slender slim line of his young body. As Ichigo ducked his head and dimmed the lights in his room around halfway, the setting sun coming through the window shade in strips, giving the youthful clear glow of his skin a pink-gold sheen.

 

 

Ichigo shuffled over to the bed and knelt down at the side of it. “So, uh… Sit here,” he said, uncertain in steering their encounter, as if wondering if Renji would actually obey or approve of his bumbling amateur attempts at leading them.

Renji smiled, enthusiastic, and sat up, planting his soles on the floor on either side of Ichigo, pleased when Ichigo knelt seiza between his feet and placed his hands on either thigh, rubbing his legs. “Okay, so,” Ichigo said rather pointlessly, clearing his throat and twitching his nose when Renji’s hair dangled in his face from where he looked down at him.

Renji put that lock of hair behind his ear and leaned back on his hands as Ichigo tentatively put his palm on the bulge of his groin, feeling it and pressing on it. Ichigo frowned to find him still soft, seeming crestfallen, but only for a moment. As he looked up questioningly at Renji as if to assess if that had been a good first move, Renji raised an eyebrow in response, to which this determined glint came into Ichigo’s eyes. He took a deep inhale and leaned his head in, nuzzling his face against Renji’s belly and pressing his lips down onto his cock through the loose fabric of his hakama.

He opened his mouth and placed a few gentle bites in the area, sucking and prodding about, and it finally set in for Renji that Ichigo – _Ichigo –_ was going to try to suck his dick. Guuuuh, this is the best day of his life.

Ichigo leaned back a moment to see his progress and Renji took his hand and pressed it fully against his cock to cup it and manipulated Ichigo’s grip for a few moments to show him how to fondle and stroke him. Ichigo sort of got the hang of it and Renji let go, content to let Ichigo fumble around and pull on his belt.

Eventually, once Renji was sufficiently hard, Ichigo patted at the side of his hip to tell him to sit up for a second so he could pull his pants down, and Renji obliged. Ichigo bit his lips and rubbed his hands up and down Renji’s thighs for a moment, looking up into Renji’s eyes, and Renji can’t help but hold his head and kiss him on both cheeks.

Ichigo scowled, but let him, and then leaned forward to put both arms around Renji’s middle, grabbing the knot of his fundoshi where it rested at the small of his back. Renji waited patiently for a time as Ichigo pulled and fiddled with it. Eventually Ichigo huffed and sagged against him, his fluffy forehead pressed against his muscled tummy. He gave another insistent yank on the knot, grumbling with frustration, and Renji couldn’t help but shake with silent laughter.

Finally Ichigo gave up and began to inch the tightly tied and rolled fabric down Renji’s hips, one side at a time, until he could pull his cock out and drag his underwear the rest of the way down his legs. His self-satisfied expression only lasted for a few moments as he glanced at Renji’s erection and swallowed hard.

“… I’m not promising anything awesome,” Ichigo began.

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before, and honestly, your first try was pretty good.” Ichigo predictably colored at the mention of that sweaty afternoon in Renji’s house, where they’d pleasured each other on the floor, sticky and imprinted all over with lines from resting on the tatami mats. Ahhh, Renji still fantasized about that.

“Whatever. I’ll do my best.”

“Do your best,” Renji encouraged. Ichigo licked his lips and stroked the hair above Renji’s cock with a few fingers, and Renji could see clearly from the way he stared and the wet spot already appearing in his briefs that he was really turned on.

“Uhh… One second!” Ichigo blurted, stumbled to his feet, and bolted out the door. Renji stared after him in confusion, hearing some commotion down the hall and the sound of running water, and then Ichigo thundered back into the room and kicked the door shut behind him, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “Okay.”

Renji was getting concerned by then, because as cute and novel as Ichigo’s shyness was, it had always come along with an element of _excitement_ before. Now he seemed anxious.

“You look really nervous,” Renji noted, “You know, you don’t have to… you don’t…” He trailed off a bit as Ichigo popped the cap on the gel, applied it to his cock like glaze on a kushi dango and then spread it with the strokes of a slick tight fist. Not wasting time, he directed it into his mouth with both hands, tentatively sucking on the head.

“Ahh, Ichigo, really, it’s fine,” Renji insisted, “it’s…” He cut off with a small grunt as Ichigo squeezed with his slippery hands, licking in a circle. It was much the same as he remembered from their day on the floor. Honestly, it was very mediocre, and although it felt okay, it felt okay in the same way anything pressing on his erection felt okay. The main plus was the genuine effort Ichigo put into it, the charm of his clueless and clumsy motions, and this time around, there was also the pink flush of modesty in his cheeks at being watched.

Seeing as Ichigo’s self esteem might not withstand another blow, Renji decided to help him out a little. Poor kid always worked better with encouragement, although he’d staunchly deny it.

Trying his best, Ichigo managed to put a few inches of his shaft in his mouth and sucked on it as well as he could, and on a base level, the press of his teeth and the roof of his mouth felt quite nice. When Ichigo pulled off to breathe, Renji pet his hair a bit and hummed. Ichigo pointedly didn’t meet his eyes and ran his mouth over the sensitive head, and once he took him in again and tried a bit harder, Renji let his thighs twitch and clench about Ichigo’s shoulders. To his confusion, Ichigo let go in surprise and looked up at him. “Oh, uh… Did that hurt?”

“No,” Renji said incredulously.

“Sorry!” Ichigo blurted, “Sorry, I thought-”

Renji chuckled then, “Geez, unwind a little. Doing stuff together is supposed to be _fun._ Don’t get stressed out over it.”

“… I’m no good, am I.”

“It’s not a contest, Ichigo.”

“You only say that when I’m losing!”

“Whatever…” Renji sighed in exasperation, letting his head fall back. “Shit, now you’ve got me saying it.” He rubbed at his brow with his hand and grimaced. “Look, you tried, how about we try something else.”

Ichigo was pointedly silent, and when Renji looked down at him again, Ichigo set his jaw and glared at him hotly, slapped his hands down on both of Renji’s hips, and then shoved him onto his back. “How about you shut up! Unless it’s to- to moan or something!”

Really, he should’ve expected the defensive lash-out and the refusal to give up – refusal to accept defeat, more like – but Renji still let out a little _oof_ as he flopped back onto the mattress. He snorted at Ichigo’s attitude, but decided there was no harm in letting him fool around a little longer.

“You know, getting yelled at isn’t actually a turn-on of mine.”

“Shut up! I don’t care! You got that?” Ichigo sulked loudly, “Sorry if you hate it, but that’s what happens! You knew I had no experience, so if you’re not gonna’ let me practice, then don’t whine when I’m bad at it! … I’m gonna’ keep going – if you have any complaints, I don’t wanna’ hear it!”

Renji grimaced and gave the ceiling a deadpan, but didn’t protest at the feeling of Ichigo’s sticky sweaty hands planted on his stomach, nor at his smooth lithe body scooting in between his legs, and definitely not at the pouty huff of breath against his abdomen. Stubborn kid.

When he didn’t fight Ichigo or shoot back any sarcastic comment, said stubborn kid sat there for a moment in silence, cautiously holding him down. Ichigo eventually tentatively hedged, “Unless you really don’t want to.”

Renji hid a laugh with a cough. He loved this little hothead, his wild swings between angry confidence and insecurity. He really was just an inexperienced kid though, wasn’t he, and he needed some reassurance.

“A’ course I do, Ichigo. I’m just playin’ around,” Renji hummed with a warm smile, tossing an arm over his face. “Give it your best. I’ll enjoy anything you do,” he breathed, grinning as he heard Ichigo’s little intake of breath.

“You… You definitely will! I know that!” Ichigo said with a clearly false bravado, and Renji’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “… You don’t have to make me figure it out on my own though, if you want.”

“Mm,” Renji acknowledged, “In that case, time to use more love-gel.”

Ichigo was noticeably silent, but did what he’d suggested, and after wrapping a hand tightly around Renji’s flagging erection, Ichigo gave him a few hard wet strokes. Renji licked his lips at that with a low hum, because although Ichigo’s head-skills left something to be desired, he had a strong arm and gave a decent handjob. “Hmmm.”

“Here I go,” Ichigo whispered, running the wet head over his lips, ahh, they were so soft. His tongue too, his tongue was really soft and velvety. Renji smiled and hummed at the feeling as Ichigo took the head into his mouth and lightly sucked, letting his hand do most of the work.

“Yeah, twist your wrist more… yeah, like that,” Renji sighed, placing a hand at the back of Ichigo’s fuzzy head as it bobbed away lightly. “Hohhh.”

Ichigo kept trying to suck him in and out, doing his best, but most of the pressure increase was on account of his wonderful borderline painful, shit, _too-tight_ grip. Renji began to pant and sweat after a few minutes of Ichigo struggling along and practicing. He could get about halfway down now, and had gotten the idea of twisting his head a little bit with his fist, sometimes swirling his tongue too. He didn’t have rhythm, but he was getting some of the components in tandem once in a while.

“Oh my god,” Renji breathed, bicep over his eyes, other hand placed on top of Ichigo’s free one, rubbing at it.

Ichigo was _just_ amateur enough that Renji couldn’t quite get himself to the plateau point, let alone orgasm, thereby rendering Ichigo’s best efforts at pleasuring him as low-grade torture-teasing.

“Is it better?” Ichigo eventually asked, having lost enough of his shame that he could look in Renji’s eyes curiously and lick on the back of his cock at the same time. Renji laughed and covered his eyes. Shit, he’s cute.

“Yeah,” he noted, “Needs work, but better than last time. You…” He narrowed his eyes then teasingly with a smirk, “You better not’ve been practicing with some guy.”

“Idiot,” Ichigo humphed, still working at Renji’s hard penis, holding the base still with one hand and running his other fist over the rest, practically squeezing the life out of it. Kid didn’t know his own strength, but Renji didn’t want to discourage him now that he’d gotten some of his confidence back. Besides, watching the muscles clench in Ichigo’s arm was super hot.

“Not to ruin the mood, but I _did_ do some,” Ichigo cleared his throat, “studying.”

“Yeah?” Renji picked his head up. Ahh, he loved watching Ichigo handle his dick.

“Yeah. Read some… stuff.” Renji raised his eyebrows, mouth open, but Ichigo didn’t clarify, not until he prompted him again.

“Like… like, I think… I think I can do it this time,” Ichigo shared quietly, and Renji at once was sent reeling at the implication of innocent red-faced Ichigo masturbating and practicing to let him in. Of course, that’s what he’d implied he’d bought that lubricant for before.

“Wanna’ try again,” Ichigo grunted, laying Renji’s cock against his stomach and rubbing it with the flat of his palm. Renji stared for a moment, two, then sat up and grabbed Ichigo under the arms, hiking him into bed on top of him.

“Yipe!”  Ichigo yelped, clinging on for a moment when the lurch made him feel like he was going to fall back out. “Renji, you doofus! We can’t both fit in here!”

“Sure we can, we fit right now,” Renji insisted stubbornly, holding Ichigo atop him, admittedly, rather uncomfortably, with Ichigo balled up on his front. “Tiny bed just means you have to hold me extra tight,” he hummed in Ichigo’s ear, pleased when Ichigo froze, his hair standing up.

“Uhh…” Ichigo squirmed for a second, then leapt up. “One sec!” Renji had sat up to try and hold onto him, but flopped back with a laugh and a groan as Ichigo scrambled over and popped the lights off.

“How’m’ I gonna’ see what I’m doing like this?” he complained lightly.

“I dunno’, feel your way around!” Ichigo hollered. “See how _you_ like feeling dumb!”

“Aw, c’mon, we did it with the light on last time…”

“And see how well that worked out!”

“I don’t want a repeat, so c’mon and trust me. I won’t make fun of the zits on your tush.”

“Hey!” Ichigo turned the light on then, glaring and standing there naked, absolutely steaming from the ears, which sent Renji into a fit of cackling.

“You know, if you didn’t wear such tight pants all the time-”

_“Shut- Shut up! Stop talking right now! I don’t have zits… there!”_

“Okay, okay, cool your jets,” Renji soothed with a note of hilarity, calming down, “I won’t make funna’ you anymore, just c’mere.” Chest rising and falling with the breathlessness of laughter, Renji held his arms out. “Come to me.”

It was sort of funny, really, because Ichigo stiffened up all over in one motion, from his toes up to his head, where all his hair stood up like a porcupine and his eyes and mouth seized motionless. His arms were tight at his side, his hands in fists, and Renji watched with a growing smile as Ichigo swallowed slowly.

“Fine…” Ichigo drew closer like a shy animal, stopping a few steps away as he mumbled, “but do your best.”

“I’ll do my best.” And Renji stood and took him in his arms, dragged his face in, and gave his damndest to kiss the orange straight off of him.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure Ichigo even realized when he got him on his back beneath him. Laving his slim, toned body with kisses until he squirmed and panted, Renji let the lubricant bottle rest within easy reach. Making sure to focus attention on the shaft of Ichigo’s cock, holding it down with his hand and sucking at the base, Renji wet his fingers and rubbed generously between Ichigo’s legs, prodding at and slicking the tight area. Damn, he could only hope this wouldn’t be as difficult as last time.

As before, Renji’s careful pressing and massaging slowly opened Ichigo up to the point that he could get his fingers in, and by then he hitched Ichigo’s legs up and bent him in half. “Hold your legs, babe,” he hummed, waiting until Ichigo had his shaking legs securely behind the knees before he planted his own palms in the flesh of Ichigo’s thighs and blew on his exposed entrance, then carefully licked around it.

“Oh,” Ichigo responded, curling his toes and squirming.

“‘Oh’ okay? Or ‘oh’ bad.”

Ichigo panted and heaved, his glowing skin wet with perspiration, then adjusted his slippery grip on his legs, hanging on for dear life.  “You can… you can keep going,” he breathed rather tentatively, at which Renji gave a wide grin and settled himself on his elbows in front of him, squeezed both sides of Ichigo’s ass in his hands and spread him even further apart.

Renji did his best to drive him up the wall, and enjoyed it quite a bit himself, because one thing he’d rediscovered about himself was that he loved pleasuring his partner. Ichigo made some very interesting sounds, that was for sure – some new ones – and his insides were hot and throbbing with arousal, but by the end of it, he was a bit dismayed to see that Ichigo wasn’t hard, not at all. Rats.

After giving a few breaths to recover, Ichigo flicked his eyes from his nonexistent erection to Renji’s face, rather nervously, as if afraid of disappointing him. “Nothin’?” Renji muttered, brow furrowed.

“No, no, it’s… it was alright,” Ichigo mumbled, still rather breathless. “That was... good. Try the fingers again, I think I’m… I think I’m almost ready.”

“Hm.” Renji gave a shrug, figuring if Ichigo had practiced on his own, he might know, although he was rather dubious considering a lack of erection was a distinct sign of a lack of enjoyment. Well, he had seemed to like his attentions until now. Maybe Ichigo was just one of those people who didn’t approach a prostate orgasm and an ejaculatory one at the same time.

“Okay. You cramping up at all? Wanna’ take a little break? Here, let your legs down.” Ichigo did, but said they should keep going, so Renji squirmed towards him on his belly, hitching one of Ichigo’s legs over his shoulder and pushing the other one out to the side.

He pet Ichigo’s penis a bit, licking and kissing right beneath his balls as he pushed and twisted his fingers inside of him. Ichigo bit his lips and reached his hands down to brush and flutter his fingers against Renji’s shoulders, until he found Renji’s own free hand to squeeze. Renji judged as well as he could to what degree he should stretch Ichigo before attempting to put his cock inside, or whether that was altogether irrelevant until Ichigo became clearly turned-on.

Ichigo looked so anxious and hopeful however, watching closely to check their progress and attempting to assist in getting his dick hard, that Renji eventually decided that backing out again now would crush the poor guy. So once Renji was relatively sure he would fit inside fairly easily with enough lubricant, he popped his head up and kissed each side of Ichigo’s inner thighs. They could at least try it out and see.

“Okay,” he reported as he sat up to give them a final lube-up, “ready ta’ go?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo nodded, short of breath, “Yeah.” He seemed to instinctively open his legs and arms up when Renji made to get on top of him, allowing him to lay against him and fit them together. Renji slid his own arms under Ichigo’s and pressed his cock between Ichigo’s legs, then kissed at his cheek.

Renji had to wonder… and looked back to Ichigo’s face in one last moment of doubt – should he say no, another day, let’s keep practicing and give it a go another time – but Ichigo was clearly excited then, and at eye-contact, he held onto Renji and smiled in anticipation, piercing Renji’s heart completely through.

“Alright, you ready?” Renji asked with an inhale and his own enthusiastic smile, shit, he was getting excited too.

“Uh-huh.”

Renji pushed himself up on one elbow and rested their foreheads together as he reached back between them to hold his cock straight and with a quick glance down, direct himself forward. Ichigo held on around his neck and Renji could feel him curl his toes up and press his feet in tight against each side of his ass. Renji cleared his throat. “Uh… try again,” he mumbled nondescriptly and gave it another go at pushing forward, but it’s already clear that he’s going to have a hell of a time penetrating. Even with all the slick, Ichigo had wound up tighter than a spring.

Ichigo grit his teeth and began breathing fast when Renji tried again to get inside, pushing a bit harder, maybe he can force it and it’ll pop in- but Ichigo at last let a tight pained noise slip. “You gotta’ let me in here,” Renji reminded, panting and kissing on Ichigo’s sweaty forehead and eyelids. “Take a big breath, relax your whole body for a sec’, then push out around me when I come in.”

Ichigo nodded, adjusted his grip around Renji’s shoulders, and let his thighs loosen at Renji’s hips. He took a few shallower breaths and then one large anticipatory one, as if readying to jump in a cold pool, and Renji pressed his hips down, only for Ichigo to yelp and jump away, then burst into laughter. “A-how,” he laughed, “Ow.”

“Pff’,” Renji returned, sagging against him and grinning into his neck. He held himself up and then switched hands, reaching down on the other side to hold his cock straight. Renji let out a little exhale through puffed cheeks and then smiled at Ichigo, who was taking it with good humor.

Wiggling his hips a little and pushing the head of his cock against Ichigo’s opening with a firm insistent pressure, he could feel Ichigo start to split and let him in, and although Renji could see he was trying his hardest, he was digging his fingers into Renji’s shoulders and grinding his jaws together.

 

 

 

“Ahh,” Ichigo groaned, smiling on one side of his mouth, his teeth gritted tightly, “Shit.” With another huffed laugh, he continued, to curse in pain, “Oh shit, ahhhh.”

“Ah fuck,” Renji grunted in return, clenching his teeth, shit, it was hurting him too. Ichigo met his gaze, and Renji saw that despite his smile, there were tears of pain forming in the corners of his eyes – and really, that was it.

“Fuck, does it hurt that much?” Holding rock-still for a moment other than his continued heavy breathing, Renji made to move back. “Shit.”

“No,” Ichigo held on with his legs, inadvertently forcing him in a little bit deeper, at which he froze, but insisted, “don’t take it out, I’m alright,” and to his credit, his tone of voice was very convincing – but then, Ichigo’d dealt with horrible gashes and near limb-removals. His tone of voice didn’t mean shit.

“Is it very bad?” Renji’s brows pushed together as he flicked his eyes over Ichigo’s face, assessing the signs of pain and exertion. Yeah, they’re done here. The rules of combat are always that once someone’s on the verge of tears, the party’s over.

“It’s fine,” Ichigo repeated, “it’s-” Ichigo cut off to clench his teeth again, and Renji can feel Ichigo’s body revolting against his, trying to force him out, but instead allowing him in ever deeper by pushing out around him as Renji remained stationary. “Ah shit,” Ichigo laughed a little, saying quickly, “Keep going, keep going-” He tried to drag Renji forward, at which he locked his arms and wouldn’t advance.

“Ichigo, it’s no good,” he said flatly, and there was no argument to be had. This was far worse than last time. Last time, even though Ichigo hadn’t enjoyed it, he hadn’t _hurt_ him.

“No, almost,” Ichigo breathed, fingers tugging at Renji’s hips, “it’s almost.”

“It’s not almost,” Renji talked over him loudly. “It’s- Would you stop moving before you tear something?” Ichigo held still then, face falling. “It’s not even close to almost – I’m taking it out.”

“…” Ichigo held him and couldn’t stop a whimper when he took it out, and then heaved and gasped to recover for a few moments.

“I was ready,” Ichigo mumbled as Renji picked himself up off of him. “…”

“You were not,” Renji sniped to try and lighten the mood, but Ichigo sulked and continued to look disappointed. Fuck, he’d really let his skills lapse if Ichigo had actually been in _pain._ He should’ve been able to get him ready and relaxed enough that he shouldn’t have felt any pain at all – but he _had_ gotten him ready _._ He’s _sure_ he had.

Maybe he wasn’t as good at this as he thought…

Well, Ichigo _was_ quite virginal still… Maybe his body couldn’t take the stretch. Renji sat at Ichigo’s side and crossed his legs, leaning an elbow on his knee as he looked down at his dick, the sign of his pride. Suddenly, he finds himself frustrated. A dick that won’t go in is no dick to him at all! He can't even deflower his boyfriend without risking splitting him apart!

Renji looked at poor Ichigo to check him, and saw that though there was no bleeding, he looked pink and sore.

Ichigo sniffed a little and scowled, huffing, and Renji wilted.

“Sorry,” he said, laying down next to him and pulling him against him, resting his head atop Ichigo’s and burrowing into it. Ichigo continued to sniff, and Renji held him and pet him, frowning into his hair. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“Stop,” Ichigo gave some token complaints, pushing at his chest, but let Renji squeeze and comfort him more. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I should be able to make it easy for you,” Renji muttered, kissing his head firmly and pressing his cheek there. “I should be making you cry in pleasure, not-”

“Stop right there,” Ichigo protested petulantly, but did scrub his wrist on his eyes. “I wasn’t even-! They’re just watering, it’s a normal reaction to pain!” With a huff, he grumbled, “I’m just bein’ a baby, you should’ve kept going.”

“I don’t wanna’ do it when you don’t like it,” Renji mumbled nearly unintelligibly, frowning sadly.

“…” Ichigo lay still then for a time, letting Renji rub his back and hold him, then eventually separated and lay next to him with a hand resting on his side. “I’ve ruined it,” he finally said quietly, picking at the bed. “I wrecked it, _again._ ”

“You have not,” Renji dismissed wryly. “Now c’mere and kiss me,” he hummed with a smile. Ichigo flicked his eyes up to him for a few moments, hanging onto his glum frown, but eventually smiled back and cheered up with a bit of coaxing.  

There wasn’t much space in Ichigo’s bed for romping, but they made the best of it and threw each other around until they worked themselves back up into a fever of pleasure. “Y’know,” Renji panted, laughing a bit as Ichigo shook him and shoved at him and smacked at his hair, tossing around the bed, “I always figured we’d have a wrestle to decide who gets to pick positions.”

Ichigo settled down a bit, his smile falling away as a more thoughtful expression came over his face. “Oh.”

“I’ll let you,” Renji hummed, leaning down into his ear, “... ‘till we figure things out, I’ll let you.” Ichigo lay very still, and Renji could feel how excited he was from the way his cock bumped and poked him in the stomach.

“... You don’t have to just ‘cause you feel bad that I’m upset,” Ichigo mumbled a bit miserably. Renji pushed the hair back from his forehead, the bristly-looking spikes moving easily, soft and light.

“Well yeah, I don’t want you to be discouraged, but it’s not a consolation prize or anything. I’m just saying we don’t have to play stakes while we’re still figuring things out. I won’t give you a hard time, I’ll let you do it.” Ichigo looked down for a second, sticking his lip out in continued disappointment and Renji kissed his exposed forehead where he held his hair back.

“We’ll keep trying, Ichigo. Don’t overthink it. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Okay.”

Ichigo was admittedly more confident in this, as Renji had already instructed him as to how to go about getting him ready on the night of the P.E. incident. Even so, he clearly had almost no idea what he was doing, and was fumbling through most of it. Renji wasn’t sweating it. Ichigo had a long time to learn, and he was no idiot; he’d catch on soon.

Renji held his legs back while Ichigo knelt in front of him, bent forward enough that he was resting his chest on his thighs. To his credit, despite his clueless jabbing, Ichigo was really gentle, although Renji suspected that was just because he didn’t want to screw up.

Putting his fingers in and out, Ichigo made lots of frowns of concentration and what seemed like frustration, and Renji just soaked in the sensation, as he hadn’t had anal sex in a while before starting to like Ichigo. He was pretty sure that was one of the reasons he could get himself riled up pretty easily this way in spite of Ichigo’s clumsiness. It was a nice feeling in any case, even with no rhythm or aim. Renji began to touch his chest and breathe heavier, humming in enjoyment, and Ichigo’s cheeks pinked in response as he continued trying with a heart-warmingly earnest effort.

“Mmg,” Ichigo finally grumbled.

“Hm,” Renji responded rather breathlessly, picking his head up to see his scowl. “What’s shakin’.”

“I’m sure I’m not doing it half as well as you do, and you get so excited,” he noted with a deep frown of dissatisfaction at the perceived unfairness of it all. “How come?” He prodded his fingers in, watching his own motions with near fixation. “You let me inside so easy.”

There was the matter that Renji was used to it and enjoyed it, and welcomed buggery, while Ichigo was still in the early stage where his body screamed out ‘ _no, wrong way, wrong way-’_ but he didn’t think pointing that out would be appreciated, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Why can’t I do it when you try?” Ichigo muttered sadly. “I’m trying really hard, I swear.”

“Ichigo, I know you are.”

“Well then why can’t you get in? Why’s it not working for me?”

Renji doesn’t know how he keeps forgetting, but he does from time to time. Ichigo might be a man by all accounts, but twenty is still only a _baby_. He’s got a strong heart and a will of steel, but he’s sensitive, and too many setbacks discourage him. He needs to be nurtured and to be given love and attention.

“Ichigo, that’s a problem for another day, we’ll keep practicing.”

“What if I never can? Then what?”

Renji licked his teeth and smirked. “Then instead of learning how ta’ let me in, you can learn how to fuck me right.” Propped up on his elbows, he gave Ichigo a grin and tossed his leg around his back, reeling him in with his foot.

“...!”

“Hurry and put your cock inside me.”

Ichigo seemed to have a minor aneurysm, eyes boggling for a time before he suddenly clapped a hand to his face, feeling about numbly until a few drops of blood came through his fingers. Renji let out a high incredulous huff of a laugh as Ichigo sniffed and wiped his nose as he hurriedly sat up and moved over him. “You get excited so easy,” he marveled.

“Right now? You’re ready right now?” Ichigo said hurriedly, his cheeks glowing and his eyes bright. Fuck, Renji’s turned on. Stupid hilarious clumsy kid.

“Yeah, put it in, big guy,” Renji breathed, pulling him down sharply so he had to catch himself on his hands above each of Renji’s shoulders.

Ichigo reached between them and Renji could feel him fumble to put it inside, but he gets it and moves forward with an adorable mix of eagerness and a still-timid caution – and once he did, he leaned his whole body onto him in an effort to go as far inside as he could and gave a long blissful moan, “Ohhhhahhhhh.”

“Mm,” Renji hummed, grabbing Ichigo’s pert bottom and squeezing, pulling him against him even more tightly. Ichigo put his head in the pillow next to Renji’s and continued making noise, going limp and quiet there in a second, then gave a little sigh and said something. Renji snorted. “What?”

“So good,” Ichigo mumbled louder into the pillow and Renji threw his head back and laughed. Ichigo yelped and stiffened up, clinging onto him, and Renji held his breath, still shaking a bit with silent giggling.

Letting out a shaky breath, Ichigo picked himself up cautiously on his arms, then gulped. Looking back and forth several times from their point of connection to Renji’s face, as if in disbelief at his own success, Ichigo tried thrusting, inhaling and holding his breath tightly. He gave a few slow clumsy amateur thrusts and then let the air out, looking proud that he hadn’t immediately blown it like last time.

Renji immediately understood that part of Ichigo’s ‘practice’ had been edging during masturbation, and it looked like it had paid off somewhat. Even so, Renji knew that he probably had a very short fuse, and lay still instead of moving his hips or otherwise participating as he usually would from the bottom.

There was still a lot to enjoy in this, even though Ichigo only had one move, which was basically to repeatedly throw his body onto him, inadvertently forcing his cock in and out. “Hmm,” Renji encouraged as Ichigo made a few tight keening noises, his eyes shut and his face lax and flushed in bliss.

Renji had forgotten over his drought period, but he really really loved sex, especially with someone he likes a lot. It was great fun. God, it felt like it’d been ages. Ichigo’s insanely sweaty body and his completely virginal movements, his clumsiness and his adorably rosy and ‘fun-sized’ dick– ah, Renji loved it.

Ichigo bumped on him for a time, all the while hugging onto him and breathing out loud. Renji grinned widely through it, carefully hiding it when Ichigo stopped for a minute to sit back and wipe his face. “Rest,” he explained shortly, out of breath, “Just a second…” ‘ _so I don’t cum right now_ ,’ he didn’t say.

Renji played with Ichigo’s fingers at his side a bit and just enjoyed looking at him. He loved touching Ichigo, his smooth firm flesh, his soft hair. He loved Ichigo’s face, his too-serious frowns and the way his whole appearance changed when he relaxed his scowl. Renji ran his hand down Ichigo’s stomach, through his bit of hair and down his hip. He can feel the rush of Ichigo’s pulse inside him, and testingly flexed his insides to see Ichigo immediately crumple, his body curling up.

When Ichigo could unclench his teeth and relax his core muscles, he rasped, “Hey! Geez, just a second, okay?”

“Okay, maybe just one or two.”

Renji smiled and smiled when Ichigo started again in earnest, obviously shaking and feeling weak in the knees, but still seeming to be giving thought to Renji’s pleasure. Renji almost didn’t know what to do with him, he liked him so much. He was so inexperienced, and although they’d technically done this before among various other activities, Renji didn’t think he’d ever stop thinking of Ichigo as virginal. Just look at him. He was so innocent, so sweet to look at – new to everything.

That cranky scowl he always wore was a layer thin, covering the biggest softest heart imaginable. Renji had always been a sap like that. It was just like him to fall for the frowning boy who just wanted to be loved.

Honestly, Ichigo wasn’t good at all, and he didn’t have the size to make up for a lack of skill. He couldn’t hold a rhythm worth shit and couldn’t decide on how hard to thrust or how deep, but he was trying his best, he was trying so so hard, and to Renji, even if Ichigo can’t make him cum, can’t fuck him senseless yet or make love to him until his legs shake, to Renji, the clench of his brow and the helpless look to his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, the way he holds him – to Renji, he’s wonderful. Just look at him.

“Ahh, I can’t,” Ichigo gasped not too long after, “... I can’t hold it, Renji, I-” He cut off into short near-panicked breaths, his hips speeding up for several uncontrolled frantic thrusts, and ooh, that actually felt great.

“Yeah, fuck, do it like you mean it,” Renji growled, biting his lips and groaning to goad him on. Ichigo continued, but seemed dismayed, panting and obviously trying to stop his movements, judging by how stuttered and jerky they became.

“Ah god, sorry, I- I’m sorry, I can’t-” He clung onto Renji, and as his eyes unfocused and whatever you want to call it – his animal brain, his instincts – switched on, his last few thrusts hit just right, his hips moving perfectly.

“Fuck, Ichigo,” Renji groaned at the rough burst of pleasure, “God-”

“Ohhhhh,” Ichigo moaned sweetly, his whole body seizing up several times as he came. Ichigo pressed onto Renji until it was over and then lay there gasping like a beached fish. “Ohh.”

The deep pulsating need to continue getting pounded and knowing that he wasn’t going to get his wish made Renji go back on his promise to quit being a dick, and after letting Ichigo enjoy the glow for a few seconds, Renji said, “That didn’t take long.”

Ichigo sat up rigidly, glaring, but held his hips carefully still. “Shut up!” he yelled, incredibly red, “You promised!” His mouth gaped a bit after that, as if he were looking for something else to say, but then he began to look ashamed, and Renji decided to take pity, because again, it’s funny, and cute, and it’s sexy, fuck, Ichigo cumming inside of him was really hot.

“Was longer than last time by a lot though.”

Ichigo continued scowling for a moment, but eventually muttered, “... Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Renji assured. “You have a good first time?”

Ichigo’s cheeks flushed, and despite his sheepish expression, he seemed full to the brim with happiness. He nodded his head once.

“Good.”

Ichigo scratched at his hair a bit, unable to stop a lopsided grin. “I think I’m getting better.” He stopped for a moment, clearing his throat as he held a hand down between them and carefully pulled them apart. He stared with his mouth ajar, apparently fascinated as the hot love-mess that had been still contained inside burst out, connecting their bodies in a warm string. “What do you think, am I- am I getting better?” Ichigo mumbled dazedly, rubbing a hand on Renji’s leg. Renji beamed, as proud as Ichigo – they’ve finally managed to consummate.

“Definitely. Now me.” He pointed at his cock, leaking all over his stomach. He was a patient guy, and liked to go all through the night – and he could bear through his virgin boyfriend’s failures to make him cum without getting frustrated, but he’s really ready to get a turn to orgasm too. “Do your best.”

“I’ll do my best!” Ichigo immediately shouted, and his eyes shine, and it’s clear that his hothead confidence was back to stay.

Not wanting to harm that beautiful fragile thing, Renji, the patient guy he was, let Ichigo struggle with him until he was at last able to make himself cum. The look of pride and achievement on Ichigo’s face was enough to make Renji’s heart pleasantly achey with love.

After getting some sleeping clothes on – as Ichigo explained that his dad liked to barge into his room without knocking – they got under the rumpled covers, and Ichigo almost immediately konked out after sleepily snuggling them together. Renji held him, resting his cheek on Ichigo’s head, and thought of how Ichigo had almost said earlier that he was part of the family, and his insides light up and glow with happiness.

He dug his fingers around Ichigo, squeezing him. He knew it couldn’t last. Ichigo’s grown up so fast. He was still growing up now – he’s human, and he’s going to keep growing and growing – and this time with him was going to go by so, so fast. Renji knew that things were going to change very soon, because Ichigo can’t hang in midair forever, between two worlds. Nobody can do that forever.

When the time comes, he won’t make it hard for him; he’d promised to himself that he wouldn’t make it hard for Ichigo once it was time. Renji closed his eyes and dug his head against Ichigo’s hair, tried to commit the feel of him in his arms to memory.

Not forever. But don’t think about it. Don’t think about that now, not until you have to. Not until he’s already gone.

. . .

 

Renji spent the rest of the next week and a half working and fit in a couple visits with his favorite person in the world, Rukia. Now that she was a captain, he liked to wink at her in meetings and give her piggybacks around her division when she was speaking to her squad, y'know, so everyone could see her. The bloom of happiness at having her back in his life hadn’t yet worn off over the past few years, and he didn’t expect it would for some time to come. Every day he thanks his lucky star to have her back.

Well, that, and Ichigo.

Anyways, having known each other almost all their lives, Rukia could pick up on the tiniest hint of his distress, as one night when they were having dinner, she gave him a knowing look when he stared at his plate for too long without taking a bite and then said, “I’m sure he’s coming back soon.”

“I don’t miss him!” Renji blurted, sitting up straighter, then covered badly, “I mean, who is? I mean-” He mentally groaned, then finally said, “... Why do you ask?”

Rukia gave him a wry smile, twisting her fist into his arm. “I didn’t ask anything! You just looked down in the dumps.”

“I’m not.” Renji put his head on his hand. “... Rukia?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought you were doing the right thing and then looked back and realized it was a mistake?”

“Yes.”

“And then you try as hard as you can to fix it, and once you think you’re finally on the right track, you start to realize that you’re fucking it all up again anyways?”

“... What’s this about?”

Renji shook his head and continued, “And no matter how hard you try after you’ve realized that, it feels like none of it even matters?”

Rukia just looked at him for a long time. “No. Why.”

“Nothing, I’m just asking,” Renji said.

“Oh. Well.” Rukia gave a small shrug. “I think it’s all about where a person’s heart is. If your heart’s in the right place, things will come right eventually.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Renji put a hand to his forehead for a moment or two and then sighed, “Ah Rukia, what’m’ I gonna’ do?”

“What do you mean?”

Renji looked at his plate for a minute or so, then shrugged, beginning to eat. He can tell Rukia anything, and yet…

“Never mind. Don’t think about it.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Rukia insisted, placing her hand on his arm, and Renji smiled back. “He never stays away for very long.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure he misses you just as much.”

“Yeah.”

“Whatever’s bothering you, it’ll come right in time.”

“Yeah. I know. Thanks Rukia.”

Usually talking with Rukia lifted his spirits, but more than ever, Renji felt like he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to be honest with the ones he cared most about. He could hardly admit the truth to himself, it was so painful. More than ever it seemed like every time he told the truth, he just ended up hurting people – but don’t think about it, just get on with it.

He’d promised Ichigo to stop feeling guilty – and he has, he’s not guilty about their age difference anymore, honestly. But there was something else. No, don’t think about it.

Anyways, any time he had a particularly bad fit of guilt, since he couldn’t talk to Ichigo about it without breaking his promise, that meant he had to chase it away on his own. Feeling guilty or sad felt like a betrayal, so to make it up to Ichigo – despite him not knowing that there was anything to make up for in the first place – every time he had bad thoughts that lingered for too long, Renji would find some way to spoil Ichigo.

Ichigo came back to Seireitei in a few days just as Rukia had said, although Renji had never been in doubt on that score. His spirits lifted with his return; in fact, as usual, Ichigo was more affectionate after being apart for a time, and followed him around from morning to night, which had Renji feeling quite contented, and even more willing to do something special.

He’d had a lot of time to think over the week about their night of love and what could be done differently to make it easier for Ichigo, but at this point, he had the attitude that what they needed most was repeated practice, something he was enthusiastic about. Despite his years of careful restraint, Renji loved bagging Ichigo, even if his skills were completely negligent given his age and inexperience. One thing he hadn’t tried was actively seducing Ichigo. Sure, he’d shown him a bunch of new things, but he hasn’t done anything to really excite him, and considering it was also one of those times that he felt he should indulge Ichigo, it was the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

He knew exactly what to do. Ichigo wasn’t really open with his fantasies, but Renji paid attention, and he distinctly remembered the times Ichigo had suggested or actually tried to mess around in his office, and although Renji would normally be completely averse to the mere idea, he’s been feeling weird and sad lately, and well… don’t think about it. Just do it. It’ll be fun.

Renji let his plan lie for a few days, instead going about his normal routine and letting it linger in the back of his mind until it was fully formed, vaguely uncomfortable. It felt somewhat wrong. Whatever, Ichigo would like it. In the meantime he paid Ichigo extra attention, and in penance for his dark thoughts, he sought him out in the midday during his lunch break and sucked Ichigo off, then watched him stumble away with a loopy grin and wobbly knees.

The guys have been bugging them again, more than usual. It was obvious enough that they’d started getting intimate after Ichigo’s coming-of-age, and they all made sure to get a word in about how their attitudes had both improved with sex. It hasn’t bothered Renji in a while, but it got under his skin a little now, what with his plan and all. He’d just have to get through it and not feel bad about it until afterwards.

When he finally could not stop thinking about it one afternoon as he was working, Renji decided to just get it over with.

He looked up from his desk, feeling tight at every joint, every muscle tensed and pained. Ichigo was in the office with him again, lounging around on the couch and reading a book, quietly minding his own business. The tempting thoughts came through one by one, and with a sense of uneasiness, Renji tugged at his collar, feeling hot all over.

Oblivious and innocent, Ichigo lay on his back, one leg propped up, his foot occasionally bouncing with pent-up energy. Despite Ichigo's calm silence, Renji found himself distracted anyways, and he kept glancing up and staring at the handsome profile of Ichigo’s young face, the glow of the sun through the window on his cheek, the flick of his brown lashes as his eyes darted about the page as he read.

Tense and sick, Renji finally cleared his throat and squirmed. “Oi, Ichigo,” he called.

“Hm?” He looked up for a moment, marking his place with his finger. It was stupidly clear that he had no idea at all what was coming.

“Oi, come sit on my leg,” he rasped, achingly hard.

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Ichigo seemed to understand then, because all he said was, “Oh,” and he immediately abandoned his reading. Renji swallowed and stared at his paperwork, pretending to concentrate as he walked over.

The guys all still gave him a bit of good-natured teasing, and admittedly, it was bothering him now because he’d suddenly remembered that lap joke from ages ago. To be honest, that one had bothered him the most, and had been the first thing to send him on his downward spiral – maybe because there was truth in it. He does. He does – Renji wanted Ichigo to sit on his lap, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for the past week since he decided to get with Ichigo in the office.

He thought about it when he was alone sometimes, writing reports or reading, to have Ichigo sitting in his lap, in his arms, warm and comforting, and then other times, when he lets his mind wander to sex, he’ll think of Ichigo facing him, legs around his waist, the weight of his body pressing his bottom down into his groin. He’ll think of kissing him and holding him in his lap and bouncing him on his hips.

Thank god Ichigo had nothing to say about it, instead coming wordlessly with his book and squirming behind Renji’s desk, because he didn’t really make a space for him, ignoring Ichigo fiercely. Ichigo eventually shoved him enough to make room for himself and sat on his leg, just above the knee on the left side. Admittedly, it would’ve been nicer to have Ichigo straddle his thigh, but both of Ichigo’s knees were modestly together. Renji cleared his throat again, but slowly drew an arm out around Ichigo’s middle and tugged him in, scooting closer to his desk until Ichigo’s back brushed his chest. He rested his chin on Ichigo’s shoulder and kept scanning his various documents. Ichigo read his book, or at least pretended to as convincingly as Renji pretended to keep working.

Yeah, you know what? This was great. This was going to be a blast.

“Mm,” Renji sighed, pressing his nose into Ichigo’s shoulder and cuddling him as he signed his name very slowly. Ichigo sat with a straight spine, pretending not to notice his erection, but Renji could hear his breathing getting heavier.

Eventually, Renji began panting and squirming, and wondered if Ichigo had suspected that he’d been hard this entire time. It was admittedly beginning to throb and ache, and even his discipline was beginning to falter into complete distraction.

Finally, giving up the facade, Renji set down his pen and leaned back from his desk, and, leaving his arms open, watched Ichigo where he sat between his legs. Fuck, he loved looking at that, just imagine how it would look with the both of them naked. Once they figured things out, he’d like to have sex with him like this, with Ichigo on top of him – maybe turned around so he could kiss him and feel his pert little butt while they made love.

Ichigo turned to him a little, enough to look him in the eye, and deliberately moved back in his lap, setting his weight on Renji’s hips, between his spread legs. He looked embarrassed but really aroused: Renji’s favorite look on Ichigo other than a smile.

Renji immediately gave a relieved sigh at the plush pressure of his perfect bottom, _he loves Ichigo’s bottom, so squeezable and round with muscle_ – it turned into a tight and stuttered grunt when Ichigo adjusted his weight, squirming somewhat and clearing his throat, letting his head drop.

Renji let his head fall back for a moment or two and closed his eyes, smiling – ahhh, it feels good – then scooted his chair in. Ichigo acted as though nothing were amiss other than his pink cheeks, and picked up Renji’s brush, rifling through his paperwork. Renji let out a deep hum, pressing a hot kiss to the back of his neck. He gripped Ichigo’s sides and rocked and pressed his hips against Ichigo’s rear.

Ichigo went really still and quiet as footsteps passed by the door, and Renji immediately felt like a twenty-something kid again, blood racing with excitement as he continued sucking on Ichigo’s neck. The risk of being caught was quite the thrill.

When the steps died away, Ichigo started to get into it, panting and sighing as Renji pawed at his chest and snuck a hand down to fondle him shamelessly. Young undisciplined guy that he was, he got hard almost immediately, his cock forming a hot little bump under Renji’s palm.

‘ _You don’t like the idea of fucking around in your office?’_

Renji bit Ichigo’s ear and felt warm inside at the resounding stuttered cry and the way Ichigo went all limp and jelly-like in his arms. ‘ _I do. I_ like _that idea.’_ He blindly untied Ichigo’s obi, licking and sucking on his neck, holding Ichigo’s head still with one hand loosely wrapped around his throat. He could feel his hard swallow against his palm.

When he got Ichigo’s hakama open and his fundoshi pulled down, he spat in his hand and jerked Ichigo off a bit, kissing at his face all the while and then simply squeezing him in his arms for a minute to give him a tight kiss on the cheek.

“What about Captain Kuchiki?” Ichigo rasped in bewildered excitement as they separated for a moment, eyes bright and uncertain.

“Forget Kuchiki-Taichou,” Renji hissed, letting his voice go deep, coming from his chest like it always did when he was really turned on. “Fuck me on the desk.”

Ichigo audibly gulped.

He hopped up to let Renji stand, and took a nervous step back, but quickly got into it when Renji seized him with both hands and kissed him hard, kissing back and sighing sweetly – he’s wonderful, Renji loved everything about him, his smell, his soft lips, the stringy lean line of his body in his arms, the emotion that Ichigo poured into his touches and kisses. “What’s with you today?” Ichigo gasped, “You’re so…” he grunted as Renji pressed his cock against him, thrusting his body onto him eagerly, “... into it,” Ichigo finished.

“I’m just a spontaneous guy,” Renji panted with a grin, and before Ichigo could say anything to the contrary, he kissed him senseless, twining their tongues together and cupping the back of Ichigo’s soft head in his hand.

When they broke apart, they stared at each other for a moment, Ichigo with dull dazed eyes and a slack mouth and Renji with a hungry lick of the lips, and then both burst into movement, trying to undress and make a space. Ichigo capped Renji’s ink bottle and moved his papers to the sides of the desk, then just threw the wet brush to the floor. He gripped the edge of the tabletop and shook it a bit to test the sturdiness, and by the time he turned back, Renji had his pants down and knelt in front of him to suck his cock. “Ohhh-ahhh,” Ichigo cried, moaning airily and holding Renji’s head in gentle stroking hands, his knees and hips trembling. Renji smiled, mouth full. He loved pleasuring Ichigo – the kid’s so… _appreciative._

Pulling back with a gasp of relish, Renji stood again and spat in his hand. He jammed two fingers inside himself to work off the initial tightness, and then bent over his desktop, gripping the far edge. “C’mon, put it in.”

“Haah,” Ichigo moaned out loud, “Right now? Already?”

“Yeah, you won’t hurt me, just c’mon.” Renji flashed a grin over his shoulder, but Ichigo was already behind him, close enough to smile against his ear as he fit them together. Renji arched his back to twist and kiss him, and to push his ass out to meet Ichigo’s hips better. Ichigo leaned back a bit to glance down, his fuzzy head resting on his shoulder. Renji could feel him pressing his wet cock onto him. The skin was catching and dragging, but aaah, the stretch felt good, c’mon, Ichigo, just shove it in! Renji could feel his pulse in his asshole – god, he hasn’t been fucked to satisfaction in so long.

“It’s not taking,” Ichigo noted tightly, easing back from pushing against him. “That- that means it’s not ready, right? Should I stop?”

“No, just force it, it feels good.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Yeah, trust me.”

“Okay… coming in now,” Ichigo gasped. Renji reached back to hold his ass on both sides and pull apart as Ichigo thrust forward.

“Yeaaah,” he groaned with a grin as the head of Ichigo’s cock breached and pushed inside. Ichigo moaned shakily and shoved all the way in, sealing his hips to his back and holding him under the arms.  

“Ohh,” Ichigo sighed as Renji ground back against him and braced himself against the desk. After a few shaky breaths, Ichigo let his arms move down a bit, and he held Renji around the middle, chin over his shoulder, and pressed against him a few times. “You, you’re so good,” he exhaled, and Renji can feel the way his legs wobble. “It feels so damn good.”

“Harder,” Renji demanded, and when Ichigo still went too timidly, he said, “C’mon, make me really feel it, fuck, yeah, harder-” until Ichigo was thrusting at a reasonably firm pace, their bodies hitting together with muffled slaps. “Ngggh,” he groaned, grinning and letting his voice jolt each time Ichigo bounced him forward, “Aa-aa-aaa-uhh-yea-ah-”

“Renji,” Ichigo gasped, holding onto him, “Oh god, Renji.”

“Hmmm.” Renji lay his chest against the desk, pleased when Ichigo gripped his hips with his shaky, stupidly sweaty hands and gave it his best, bumping his hips against Renji’s ass until he showed the tell-tale signs of approaching orgasm.

Renji reached back and took two rough handfuls of Ichigo’s ass, yanking on him to get him to go harder, “C’mon,” he urged, and Ichigo sped up a bit, panting and bending over onto him with a final moan. Renji let his forehead thud onto the desktop, breathing heavily.

“Aw damnit,” Ichigo breathed a few seconds later, pulling out so Renji could stand. When he did, moving to collapse in his chair, with Ichigo coming down hard on top of him, he saw that Ichigo looked unashamed this time, but still very frustrated.

“What’s your huff.”

“... Wish I could go for longer,” Ichigo mumbled into his shoulder, still gasping and heaving, brow beaded with sweat. Renji smiled a bit and pet his head, but his insides are still pounding with his rushing pulse. “I don’t like it to be over so fast… I just…” He gesticulated to illustrate his point, “I get so excited, I can’t help it, and I- I try to stop, but… Mmph,” he finished, helped Renji through to completion, and then stood to fix his clothes with dramatically irritated movements.

Renji snorted.

After giving his cock a last few strokes, he ran his hand between his legs and flung it at the floor, then wiped it on his sock. He tied his own hakama up and redid his hair, using his bandanna to wipe his forehead, then gave a long sigh. He knew Ichigo was going to keep having insecurity issues like this, about his stamina, about his penis size, about his skills as a lover, until Renji leveled the playing field and showed him he wasn’t the only guy in the world who’d started out a know-nothing pathetic kid. With a sense of mental exhaustion, he admitted to himself that he was going to have to tell the story. Fuck, Ichigo was never gonna’ let him hear the end of this.

“So, I’m gonna’ tell you something embarrassing.” Ichigo’s head popped up, first in curiosity, but then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“C’mon, c’mere and sit on my knee,” Renji coaxed with a grin. It wouldn’t be so bad. Anything was better than seeing Ichigo’s shoulders droop like that.

“A story?” Ichigo said flatly, and there was that cute scowl.

“Yeah. An embarrassing one. But you can’t give me shit.”

“Says who, you just laughed at _me!_ ” Ichigo accused.

“Not a _lot,”_ Renji tried to bargain.

“Just tell me.”

Renji rolled his eyes, scooting up to his desk and planting his elbow on it. “So, did I ever tell you I was a wakashū?” Once Ichigo was done tying up his pants, he came and rested his bum on the side of his desk, folding his arms, still breathing a little hard and glowing with satisfaction.

“Wakashū,” Ichigo said with a frown, and then there was a moment of recognition and Renji knew he was in for it. “You mean like… being a fuckboy?”

“Pff-” Renji spat indignantly, cheeks filled with air, “Don’t call it that!” He tried to explain it more rationally, but the words wouldn’t readily come, with Ichigo giving him a sudden sly smile, the little brat! “Like, like-!”

“Gay samurai in training!” Ichigo finished, giving an expression like he had it all figured out, holding one finger up.

“Quit making a face like that makes sense! This is like the Gin Tonbo thing all over again!”

“You mean the Silver Slug?”

“NO! Look- Whatever!” Renji shook his head and groaned. “I shouldn’t have told you anything.” Ichigo gave a light laugh and then frowned deeply, hand to his chin in thought.

“Wait, so if you were a wakashū…” he began.

“Yeah, look, _technically,_ but I didn't do the dressing up part, only the sex with an older man while in training to be a better warrior part.”

“So..." Ichigo grimaced, looking at him like he’d never seen him before. “Don’t tell me that means Ikkaku was your nenja…”

“Whoa, no way!” Renji blurted, making an ‘x’ with his hands and sputtering, “Never! _No!_ ”

“Well, that narrows it down to… Hisagi, or Byakuya- and there’s _no_ way.”

Fucking kid was way too smart. “Look, it’s not important who- The point of this story is,” Renji grumbled in exasperation, “There was this one time in the beginning that I got so worked up that I may have done worse than what you did the first time.”

Ichigo frowned. “The only thing worse than what I did would be to cum before even putting it-” He stopped suddenly, mouth still open on his next word, and he stared at Renji hard, the edges of his mouth beginning to quiver in a smile. His shoulders began to shake and he snapped a hand to his mouth.

“... I told you not to laugh."

“I’m not laughing.”

“Ichigo.”

“I’m not.”

“You fucking bastard, I’m gonna’ be so rough on you later.”

“No, you aren’t.” Ichigo grinned, and for a moment, with the sun coming through into his hair, turning it bright yellow-gold, and the light glowing in his brown eyes and lighting them amber, he looked so full of light and laughter and strength that Renji felt breathless.

“...” Finally, after staring at him for long enough that Ichigo cocked his head in confusion, he cleared his throat and said rather stupidly, “Do you feel better?” his voice low and devoid of previous anger.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Ichigo headed for the door, and Renji pointed at him. “Friday. Train hard.”

“Friday,” Ichigo repeated, a spring in his step and the ghost of his past smile on his face in the way that his forehead and chin was no longer creased by his constant scowling, and he carried that glow with him in his eyes.

He shut the door, and Renji smiled after him for a moment, two, then put his head in his hands, and all he can think for a moment, chest convulsing in pain, was, ‘ _I never should’ve told you.’_

That day, after the war, under the trees, in the yard – _‘I never should’ve told you that I love you.’_

. . .

 

Renji couldn’t sleep for two nights in a row, and on the third, he didn’t bother even laying his head down, instead neglecting to return home after the workday ended. He’d stayed as long as was acceptable, and after that, had begun walking.

It had long since gotten dark, and Renji was still out, wandering in the night. He could feel the light of the moon on his shoulders.

As much as he tried to stop thinking of Ichigo, he couldn’t escape it. Even out here in the open air, Ichigo is there, in every sliver of grey light, in every moonbeam. He’s there in the cloudless sky, watching him run – staring down on his cowardly heart.

No matter how long he walked or how tired he got, how much his shoulders and eyelids drooped, Ichigo was still there in his mind. Zangetsu was there in the sky, calling out to his soul, poised to slay, and over the mindless hours of trying to forget, Renji had come to learn something. Zangetsu didn’t just mean the Slaying Moon; it also meant death.

Renji doesn’t know what will happen when Ichigo dies. Nobody does.

And Ichigo _will die._ But nobody knows what’s going to happen.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s this obsession that runs through his brain on repeat whenever the excuses of his job and friends don’t distract him, and sometimes even then. He shouldn’t have made Ichigo love him. He shouldn’t have told him. He shouldn’t have changed the course of Ichigo’s life. He should’ve just let Ichigo live his life naturally, without steering him wrong. But it was too late now – far too late, and Ichigo wasn’t going to leave him, not until the glow of young love matured and dimmed into nothingness.

‘It’s not a phase,’ Ichigo would insist, ‘It’s not a phase!’ and as inclined as Renji was to believe him – as much as he _wished he could_ – that only made it worse. If Ichigo’s feelings didn’t end up fading over all that time, which seemed only more likely as time went by, considering the strength and loyalty of the kid’s heart, then…

Then what were they gonna’ do?

That would be such a lonely life to live. Ichigo was a human, and Renji keenly understood the pain Ichigo would go through, growing older and older and going inbetween worlds, one side never changing, the other aging with him yet moving along without him. No, he couldn’t live such a life devoid of substance, dipping his foot in both and never fully immersing in either.

No. Ichigo had to decide, and Renji knew deep down that he wouldn’t stay here. He would have to go. Ichigo had a human’s heart and he loved his home and his family. There would eventually have to be a sad goodbye, wouldn’t there – and if Ichigo still kept on loving him, he’d say something like, ‘Not forever. I’ll see you again once I’m dead and gone. I’ll come back to you, I swear on my soul. Once I die, I’ll come back to you.’ – and if he decided to stay in the living world, he _would_ die and go away. That human heart, like every other, no matter how strong, how pure, how good, would turn to dirt; worthless. And what would happen then?

If Ichigo died a human, what would happen? Would he be left lost in the Rukongai with no memory like everyone else? Why should Ichigo be so special as to bypass an unavoidable fact of nature? When Ichigo died, there would be no seeing him again. There would be no ‘I’ll come back to you.’ He would be gone forever, lost on the wind, sand in Renji’s fingers. Renji would never find him, one soul among billions, and even if he did, their shared memories were unsalvageable. Ichigo would never remember him, he'd never remember their promise or their love or any of the things they did together.

Or even more terrible, if Renji were to become worse than dirt and beg Ichigo to stay, if he were to convince Ichigo to come be with him, come to his world and stay forever – what if Ichigo were to make the ultimate sacrifice for him and die young and _stay_ young like this with him and never know what he could’ve had in the human world. Places never seen, people never met, a family never had, great things that a great person could have done in the place he was born to, the place he was meant to be, the place he never should have left.

To know for the rest of their time together in death that he had robbed Ichigo of that life, or to lose him forever – he didn’t know which was more unbearable.

And he couldn’t decide, and he can’t stop thinking about it. _‘If I’d just never said anything to you – I never should have told you.’_ He can’t decide, and that day will come when they meet the fork in the road. He can’t tell Ichigo, he can never tell him of this fear of that day when they come to the crossroad – because that day will come and Ichigo’ll have to make a decision. He might not have to today, or next week, or next year, but he will eventually, and then Renji will have to accept one of those unbearable endings.

Renji knew it was also possible – and his panic told him that it was very likely – that it wouldn’t even come to either of those extremes. Young love faded far more quickly. He was lucky if he got five short years before the blindness of that love dissipated and Ichigo moved on to other things, to his real life.

But don’t think about that now. Just look at the slim line of his body before it fills out, the remaining softness in his face before it leans, the yet uncreased skin around his scowling eyes and brow, feel his pure sweet heart before it changed irreversibly with age and wisdom and maturity. Smell the flower while it’s in bloom, make it last.

Look at the moon and think of him as much as you can, so that once he’s gone, you can remember him as close to perfectly as you possibly can. Don’t think about the end. Don’t think about the end no matter what.

Renji walked around in a daze, feeling half-dead, the shocks of his footfalls traveling numbly up his legs and the back of his skull. The impacts rattle his teeth. He can’t feel anything past a numb panic and a gnawing empty feeling and loneliness that is already setting in, endless aching loneliness. He’s felt it before. He can’t go back to that. He can’t live it twice.

_‘You always were a fool like that, falling for a human child.’_

_‘Never expected that outta’ you, going after a kid.’_

Renji held his head in his hands and bumped against the polished white walls of Seireitei’s streets. He’s been such a fool. He never should’ve- never- but then...

 _‘I didn’t have doubts. You feel right, so I don’t worry about anything else_ – _because I have you to drag me through on your back.’_

“What do I do?” Renji rasped to himself, “God, what do I do?”

Feeling a sudden interruption in the moonlight on his head, Renji looked up, and in doing so, he realized he’s come across Ikkaku, who was drinking up on a roof. Feeling more pathetic than he’d felt since he was on his knees, defeated by a teenager and screaming to please save his best friend, _please god, don’t let her die_ – Renji gaped up at him helplessly, completely lost.

“Hey,” Ikkaku said with a familiar grin when he noticed him standing there, all slumped and staring at him. He flung his body back as he guzzled some more booze, and then eyed Renji again more closely, his fond smile traded for the scrutiny of a big brother.

“Hi, Ikkaku-san,” Renji returned, and immediately cleared his throat when he heard how scratchy and awful his voice sounded, it having cracked several times on the way out.

“You look kinda’ down on your luck.”

Renji felt an inch from breaking, his heart swelling up in his throat at the steady and careful words, but all he did was shrug.

“Why don’t you c’mon up here, kid,” Ikkaku said, his voice beckoning and insistent. “Come drink with me.”

Renji looked up at him, and had to swallow a few times to fight down the rise of raw emotion. “Okay.” He smiled, and reached to take the hand Ikkaku had offered down to him, letting him help him up.

“There you go, string-bean. Get some sake in you.”

Ikkaku handed him a bottle and slapped his back, and Renji tried not to choke as he drank. He hasn’t been skinny enough to be called a string-bean in thirty-five years, but the sentiment was appreciated. All of it was. Though it wasn’t said aloud, there was a tacit understanding on Ikkaku’s part that although Renji wasn’t shedding tears, he was indeed crying, and in return, although Ikkaku didn’t acknowledge that this beer was pity-beer, Renji knew he was being comforted.

He’s glad; despite Ikkaku having been the one who’d disapproved most of all and would have the most reason to say _‘I told you so,’_ here he was, trying to make him feel better. Renji still didn’t understand why people never gave Ikkaku credit for his kindness.

Ikkaku started yakking about some skulls he’d cracked together earlier and the ensuing squealing and the obligatory  _shame on you for deserting the squad._ After warming up with some alcohol, Renji began to smile a bit and enjoy the crazy stories he’d missed. He’s avoided his old friend for too long.

That lingering sense of shame is still there, and a feeling that he’s disappointed him, especially now. Renji finally dropped his head, frowning at his feet as they both stared off at the moon.

“Hey,” Ikkaku said after a few moments silence, and he didn’t say anything else until Renji looked up. He leveled Renji with a piercing unreadable glare, and then went on with, “Just wanted ta’ say I wasn’t sure of what you thought you were doing in the beginning.”

Renji swallowed hard, immediately knowing what he was referring to, and he dug his fingers into the roof tiles, staring straight at his knees as Ikkaku talked to the horizon. “But I heard about, yunno’, how you held off, and well,” Ikkaku said seriously, “I’m impressed.”

Renji looked up, a rock in his gut.

“You oughta’ be proud a’ the strength a’ your feelings.” Ikkaku nudged him roughly, and Renji stared at him in numb surprise. “I wasn’t sure in the beginning,” Ikkaku repeated, taking a swig of liquor, “but well, if you’re serious about this, then very best of luck.”

Renji blinked hard and kept his breathing calm despite the pain in his chest. He looked at his lap and felt a small smile spread on his lips.

“I just hope you know it’s gonna’ go by fast,” Ikkaku advised, and Renji doesn’t know how he’s always tricked people into thinking he’s dumb when he’s so damn perceptive.

Well, it was his own fault for thinking his senpai wouldn’t know exactly what was bugging him, and for ever thinking that Ikkaku had stopped being proud of him or caring about him in his own assholish way. He had a way of charming you despite all his rough edges. Renji still was just feeling incredibly melted by the fact that Ikkaku has wished some of his good luck on him.

“I do,” he said gravely. “An’ thanks, Senpai.” He smiled, and felt comforted, warm and achey in this place that had hurt from being scraped raw, like something has soothed this knot of bitter pain that needed to be sobbed and screamed out of him.

“Ahh, pssh,” Ikkaku brushed off, but Renji can see he’s pleased. He leaned back and stretched his arms over his head, and hummed, “It takes a lotta’ luck to find that something special.”

Renji looked out at the skyline and the stars and just breathed, knowing that the ache would come back, because even now, feeling stretched full with relief and gratefulness, the moon was still there, shining down on his face.

“My advice is, when you find it, don’t let it go,” Ikkaku said seriously, and clapped a rough hand onto his shoulder. Something made Renji look up, meeting Ikkaku’s hard gaze, and even then, his insides squirm, because those eyes see right into him and they _know everything._

“Even when it gets hard,” he insists.

Renji looked at him for a second, and Ikkaku looked back, frowning, apparently dissatisfied, but he eventually nodded. He gripped his shoulder and shook him, then released him and slapped his arm a couple times. Renji let himself be jostled about and stared off into the moon. Zangetsu, the killing moon. So far above him, reflecting on the lake, and all he does is howl.

Renji dropped his head and turned, sliding down to the edge of the roof. He hopped down and walked off, but he could feel the light on his back, following him.

All he ever does is howl and never bite.

. . .

“Renji!” Ichigo called in the distance, his voice growing steadily closer, until finally it was right in his ear. “Renji! It’s Friday!”

Renji snapped awake at the excited tone and the shaking to his shoulder. “Get up, get up, get up!”

“Mmph,” Renji groaned, and rolled over. He felt something soft whack him on the back, and just buried his head in his arms, keeping his eyes shut. Ichigo beat him with a pillow again and then leaped on top of him, laughing. He couldn’t help but quirk a smile at Ichigo’s high spirits, but still didn’t move or open his eyes. God, he’s exhausted. That's what he got for staying out all night.

“Get up, _now!_ You’re lazy as a bone!”

“It’s _'lazy bone,'”_ Renji mumbled, giving a great yawn and latching onto Ichigo’s middle, snuggling against him. “Why’re you in such a good mood?”

“You know what day today is, don’t you? It’s Friday.”

“Mhm.”

“And you know what _that_ means.”

“Mm?” Ichigo whacked him in the head then, kind of hard. “Hey!”

“We’re supposed ta’ _do it_ ,” Ichigo shouted, getting testy. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

“No, geez,” Renji finally sat up and yawned again, stretching – _ooh, that’s good._   

“Haven’t you been training? I’ve been training really hard! We’ll definitely do it this time, for sure!”

“Someone’s excited,” he noted, raising an eyebrow and smacking his lips as he leaned back on his wrists. “Excited enough to get up this early?”

“It’s time for you to go to work,” Ichigo said, and then humphed a little, “an’ of course I’m excited. I’m becoming a man tonight!”

“Well, not really. You’ve already had your dick inside me. So it’s not really-”

“To me, it is!” Ichigo shouted, “And will you get up?! Don’t just sit there like an idiot! Monkey-brain!”

“Okay, okay,” Renji chuckled as Ichigo yanked his blankets off and shoved at him with his foot until he got out of bed and wandered away to freshen up and get dressed. “Y’know, you always call me a monkey and stuff, but Zabimaru is actually a Nue. Y’know? The snake tail and everything? I know you’ve seen him!”

“Okay, _Nue-brain_ then!”

“Yeah, watch out! My soul is a yokai, and Nue cries cause disaster! Don’t make me cry or a disaster will happen!”

“That must explain why my life sucks, you huge crybaby!”

“What?!” Renji stood up from where he had bent over washing his face. “You little punk! I’m gonna’ kick your ass! What part of your life sucks?!”

“You always take ages in the bathroom, it definitely lowers my quality of life.” Renji stared at himself in the mirror, raising an eyebrow, and then began brushing his hair.

“This is a very important part of my day. Butthead.”

“Just hurry up and get ready, slow-poke!” Renji rolled his eyes.

Once he was fully awake and ready to go, Renji searched the house for him, calling, “Hey Ichigo, so what time are-” He came to a stop in the front room when he saw Ichigo waiting at the table. “What… You made me breakfast?” he said, touched.

“C’meet!” Ichigo mumbled with his mouth full, and Renji lit up in a grin, sitting cross-legged across from his boyfriend and eating his sloppily arranged plate of too-sweet food.

“Mm!” Renji hummed appreciatively, “Thanks.” He almost burst out laughing when Ichigo positively beamed. He was really excited, wasn’t he. “So where are you goin’ today? Rukia’s?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo sighed, coming down from his energy-high a little. “And I’m gonna’ harass Byakuya ‘till he promises not to keep you late – _or_ ta’ let you _stay_ late.”

“I’m gonna’ come back on time, Ichigo.”

“You’d better be home on time.”

“I just said so,” Renji repeated with a snort, then added lowly, “I wouldn’t miss it,” pleased to see Ichigo coil up with a little breath of anticipation.

When they were done eating, Ichigo tapped his foot impatiently as Renji carefully double-knotted his bandannas, and then they went outside together. Turning as one to look at each other, they both hesitated for a second, smiling like loons. Renji felt like picking him up and spinning him, but he was sure it wouldn’t be appreciated. ‘ _Tonight, I’m gonna’ have you, Ichigo,’_ he thought gleefully.

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Ichigo seemed to be waiting for something, eyes bright. Renji just about reached out and ruffled his hair. Ichigo was full of the joys of spring.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” Ichigo said and stood on tiptoe to push a smiling kiss onto his mouth – although it was really out of excitement more than need to close their height distance – he’d gotten so tall… – before he ran off with his shoulders high and his sword bouncing on his back. Renji grinned after him with a gusty sigh.

To Renji, it felt like just another day other than the building anticipation for his evening plans, but by the time his hours were over and he checked out on the dot, mindful of his promise, Ichigo could be heard from a distance yelling that he’d thought he was going to grow old and die waiting for five-thirty. Impatient kid.

“Hey, shut up! They can hear you in the Soul King’s Palace!” Renji hollered back, but hurried up to meet him.

When Ichigo saw him at the door to the barracks, he lit up in a grin and grabbed his wrist, then towed him along. “Whoa, geez!” Renji laughed, but ran with him and kicked his door shut once they got inside.

As much as Renji had found Ichigo’s shyness adorable, his enthusiasm was just as endlessly cute. Renji really should have expected it from how playful Ichigo had been all day, but it still was a pleasant surprise to have Ichigo smiling and throwing his arms around him eagerly, his fingertips scrunching and digging into his hair as he kissed him.

“Hmmm,” Renji sighed, holding him in his arms and getting into it, but just as quickly, Ichigo separated them with a _smack_ of their wet lips parting and pulled him by the arms into the bedroom.

Renji snickered, playing along, and pushed him down onto the bed, only to cough out an _oof_ when Ichigo kneed him in the gut, shoving at his shoulders. “Wha-?” Renji complained, only to see Ichigo giving him a shitty little grin before he tried again to roll them and fling him around.

“Don’t you want me to be on top tonight? What’re you doing?”

“Wrestling you.” Ichigo clung onto him then and threw his weight on him hard enough that he was able to flip them and pin him on his back. “Was your idea,” he said with a breathless smile, leaning down to tickle him on the forehead with his messy hair and kiss him on the lips a bit. Renji smiled, heart floating, and let Ichigo hold his arms down by the biceps as he kissed back.

“I gotta’ fight you for your virginity?”

“Yeah, that’s how it is, so deal with it!” Ichigo crowed, and Renji snorted, knocking him over and pulling his yukata open. For all Ichigo’s bluster about putting up a fight, they really just rolled each other about and shoved and tickled, and when Renji got the upper hand or undressed him, he didn’t even really put up a token protest or struggle, frequently abandoning wrestling him in favor of kissing.

Renji threw Ichigo’s underwear across the room and shouted, “Hah! I win! We're butt-naked! So now you’ve gotta’ let me give you the sweetest night!”

“Noooo,” Ichigo moaned, smothering his fake complaints on Renji’s mouth after lacing his arms around his neck and yanking their heads together. Renji sighed and laid his weight atop Ichigo, basking in the feeling of warm skin. He loved being naked with Ichigo. Every bit of him was so perky and pinchable, and his dick was so cute.

“Roll over,” Renji growled in Ichigo’s ear, immediately ruining the mood when he burst into giggles at the way Ichigo’s hair stood up as he promptly flung himself onto his stomach.

“Hmmm,” Renji hummed appreciatively, settling his body against the backs of Ichigo’s long slim legs, his chest cushioned on his thighs. He slapped both hands to Ichigo’s buttcheeks, taking a while to just squeeze and play with his bottom.

“I love your butt, your butt is the best butt,” Renji mumbled, shoving his face down between and smothering himself.

“Uh… thank you.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Haaaah,” Ichigo sighed, pressing his face into the bed when Renji pried him apart with his hands and licked him firmly.

They messed around for a good long time, pleasuring each other into a sweaty lazy knot, and Renji was glad to see that Ichigo’s nerves weren’t keeping him from staying hard, even when he occasionally put his fingers in.

After around a half an hour long love-romp, Ichigo rubbed his shoulders where he lay between his legs.

“I’m ready,” Ichigo panted, and it’s the first time he’s ever said it on his own with any certitude. “I’m ready, Renji, let’s do it,” he said eagerly, breathless and rosy-cheeked.

Renji grinned, hopping up and jumping on him, kissing Ichigo’s lips as he fit them together and held him in his arms. “Last chance for life,” he joked, whispering in his ear, and Ichigo snorted back.

“I’m no chicken! Deploy missile!”

“Okay, no need to get crazy.” Ichigo squirmed a little in anticipation, and he did look a little nervous then, but his eyes were brave. Renji kissed his nose, then his cheek as he reached between them to stroke his cock and give a few practice thrusts where he just pushed his dick betweeen Ichigo’s buttcheeks. They both were really warm and slippery from their long bout of sharing love all over the bed. “I’m gonna’ go in nice and slow,” he reminded, even though he’s sure Ichigo knows.

Ichigo nodded, holding each of his shoulders and squeezing his sides with his thighs.

“Here it comes, ready or not,” Renji breathed against Ichigo’s ear, holding his cock straight and leaning forward.

“I said I was ready,” Ichigo hissed back, but then began biting his lips hard, and Renji can immediately feel that it’s going to work this time. As he put pressure on Ichigo’s asshole with the blunt head of his cock, the resistance gave way and let him penetrate. Ichigo gasped in surprise and clung onto him hard, then made some breathy noises as he carefully pushed the head inside. He even whimpered a little, but didn’t force him out.

Renji let out a slow breath through puffed cheeks and pressed his forehead against Ichigo’s. God, it was so tight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex with a virgin if it had been this tight. “Mmmmm,” he growled appreciatively at the springy grip around his cock. Fuck, keep it together.

“Hurt?” he grunted. He could feel Ichigo shake his head tightly.

Renji picked himself up a bit to check him. “Is it bad?”

“… No, it’s-” Ichigo replied unsteadily, his jaw clenched tightly and his brow scrunched up. “Go easy.”

Renji eased inside, sliding in like a dream until he bottomed out, surging his body against Ichigo’s and wrapping around him, holding him close. “Fuuu-huuuck,” he mumbled, kissing Ichigo’s face sloppily. “Still fine?”

“Mhm,” Ichigo squeaked back, and Renji pushed himself up on his arms, frowning. Ichigo kept holding onto his shoulders, letting out small forced pants. Their eyes met and Ichigo brightened up.

 

“...”

 

 

“I did it,” he said breathily, gripping onto him. The realization setting in, a triumphant grin lit up his face. “It’s inside! I’m not a virgin anymore!” Renji grinned at his enthusiasm. “Yusss!” Ichigo said goofily, pumping a fist, and despite his accomplished expression, his tone was a little wobbly and sniffly.

Renji couldn’t stop a smile at the way Ichigo glowed with pride, but he was unable to ignore the way his eyes glittered with tears and his voice and lips quivered. “Are you lying?” he grilled bluntly, “Does it hurt? Tell me the truth.”

“No,” Ichigo sniffed, wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist. “It’s just- just a lot,” he tried to explain, and Renji’s concerned expression softened. Ichigo gave a little laugh, smiling, “I dunno’ what’s wrong with me, I just- We got it.” He squirmed happily. “You’re finally here.” He held both Renji’s cheeks in his hands and kissed him, squeezing his face.

“Where?” Renji breathed, throat dry.

“Here. I can feel you, right here.” He didn’t think he smiled, gazing down into Ichigo’s face, a dull crackling in his ears. And he can feel it too, right in his chest, this incredible aching warmth.

“Thanks for not giving up,” Ichigo breathed, still unable to contain his excited smiles. Renji’s heart had already thoroughly melted, but that just about did him in.

“Why would I?” he whispered back onto his lips, eyes slipping closed as he snaked his arms tighter around Ichigo and embraced him. Ichigo snickered a little bit, still sniffing, and Renji just squeezed him and locked those words and that smile away in his heart. He’s always been a sentimental ass like that.

“Okay,” Ichigo said breathily, giving his best challenging grin, although it was a bit shaky. “Now show me what you got.” Renji grinned back and wiggled his hips a little, and Ichigo’s face went slack and flushed red. “I- I,” he slurred, but then finished strong with a flash of his warm brown eyes. “I bet you I can hold off from cumming for five whole minutes this time!”

“You’re on,” Renji chuckled, and despite Ichigo’s bravado, of course he wasn’t gonna’ go all out on him immediately. For all his tough talk, he was shaking like a leaf and clinging onto him quite hard, which was saying something, because Ichigo was really strong. “I’m gonna’,’ Renji wheezed, “I’m gonna’ take you ta’ heaven.”

“Then do it then!” Ichigo blurted, and Renji snickered in his ear.

He started out very gently, just pressing his hips against Ichigo’s without withdrawing at all, and Ichigo shuddered, his hands quickly slapping to Renji’s back and gripping on. His breath came between them in little puffs, and Renji pulled out an inch or so, pushing back in. “Heh’,” Ichigo laughed, the novelty of having finally gotten it right not having worn off. “I really did it.”

“Yeah, good job,” Renji agreed with a grin, kissing his cheek and blowing a raspberry on his face. “Now I’m gonna’ melt you with my mad love. You asked for it, sucker.”

“Ewww,” Ichigo complained, but laughed. “Haah,” he grunted as Renji hummed deep in his chest and began rocking his body against his.

Renji thrusted a few times testingly, and then grinned when Ichigo gulped and let out a slow breath, wiping his brow. Immediately picking up on his old skills, Renji began expertly curling his hips at a steady pace, relishing the feeling of Ichigo holding onto him and the way he let out little cries each time he pushed his cock inside him. Fuck, Renji loves having sex.

Ichigo’s insides are so squishy and soft and grip him so snugly that he just wanted to plow him all night, he wants to force his cock through his slick channel the whole night through. “Ahhh,” he groaned, squeezing Ichigo under the arms and breathing hotly against his forehead, “so fucking _good.”_

“Ahh,” Ichigo cried as he bounced with each controlled snap of Renji’s hips, “Ahh, ahh-”

“Hmmm.” Slowing to a teasing roll, Renji kissed Ichigo warmly, just look at his sweet face. When their lips parted, Ichigo did that thing he did when he was feeling sappy and affectionate, the thing Renji loved that always got him feeling oddly choked up – where he’d cup his face in his hands and run his thumbs along his eyebrows. ‘ _I’m yours,’_ Renji thought as the pads of Ichigo’s finger rubbed along his brow.

The intimacy of joining like this, Renji felt like he could touch just barely on Ichigo’s soul, he thought he could feel him, see down inside him and knot them together, and the feeling of it, how can he ever be just Renji again after he’s known how it feels to be an unbroken whole?

Ichigo pet his eyebrows again, his soft hands holding his cheeks. His eyes were beautiful, a sweet amber brown – brown eyes were Renji’s favorite.

‘ _My heart is yours, kid.’_

“Renji…”

“What?” Renji whispered back, pausing.

“I win.”

Renji shook his head, coming out of his daze. Ichigo tweaked his nose. “Hah! More than five minutes!”

“Pff!” Renji began laughing.

They rolled about making love for some time. Renji was enjoying the fun of intimacy enough that he held off from orgasm as easily as ever despite the way Ichigo's insides convulse and clench around him in pleasure. Eventually though, Ichigo began to get absolutely exhausted, and he explained breathlessly that he’s never gone this long before, so Renji sped things along.

It didn’t seem Ichigo could cum like this though, because Renji tried and tried, and they went on for ages, but Ichigo still hadn’t cum. At last Renji was on top of him, sealed back to chest from sweat, and was kissing at his ear and panting as he thrust his hips down against his ass, loud slaps resulting. Ichigo was nearly delirious, sensitive and shaking. Renji squeezed his sweaty hands, their fingers interlaced, and he can see there’s nothing wrong with his technique from the way Ichigo’s eyes flutter and his muscles tense and quiver with every thrust.

“Renji,” Ichigo panted finally, saliva coming from his mouth, his eyes lidded, “I can’t, I can’t-”

Renji pulled off him and helped roll his limp body over, then guided his erection in again, humming at the way Ichigo’s insides squeezed and gripped his cock. “Aaah,” Ichigo moaned wetly, “It’s too-” His hands scrabbled at Renji’s back, and his eyes focused on him for a second in desperation. “Please,” he begged, “please finish.”

Renji could still hold off for some time if need be – he was ready to go all night – but Ichigo was clearly fried, so he sped up the pace and sent Ichigo’s eyes rolling back with firm grinding blows until he was panting and wiping sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Shit,” he whispered, gripping Ichigo’s hips tightly in his hands and driving his cock into him. When he was just at the peak, Renji pulled out and stroked himself off in a tight fist, groaning as he reached climax. Fuck, it was a hell of an orgasm, he hasn’t had the chance to make love full-throat in ages.

“Ngh,” he grunted, jerking off and pressing the head of his cock to Ichigo’s asshole as he came, then shoved back inside and thrusted through it, pushing his cum inside of him and letting it slick his movements.

“Ahhh,” Ichigo let out a high-pitched cry, eyes shut, “Ahh.” Renji kissed Ichigo’s slack mouth and held him, humming and rolling his hips against him slowly to finish off their love-making, enjoying being joined together and the warmth of it.

Ichigo breathed fast, panting heavily, and Renji can feel his heart pounding everywhere they touched. They lay together connected for a long time, Ichigo laying limp beneath him. At last he pulled out and looked down between them at the mess they’d made together, and he felt proud. Ichigo let out a long sigh and smiled dazedly, and glowed.

“Were,” he panted, trying to reach for him but just letting his hand flop back down in exhaustion, “Were you just gonna’ go _forever?_ How many times were you gonna’ make me cum, you animal? You, you-”

“You did?” Renji cocked his head, grinning wolvishly and heaving.

“I thought I was gonna’ die,” Ichigo mumbled breathlessly. “Over an' over- I didn't know that could... That was-.... Whoa,” he huffed, arm over his face as he gasped for air.

“See? Died and went to heaven,” Renji gloated, smug and lazy. Ichigo didn’t retort, and lay still for a long time, letting his breathing slow. Renji put his arms behind his head, completely relaxed and utterly satisfied.

“Hold me,” Ichigo mumbled at last, and Renji could barely understand him he was so clumsy and sleepy sounding.

Renji used a piece of their discarded clothing to wipe them off and then threw his topmost sheet over them, embracing Ichigo and holding him to his chest. Ichigo gave a large yawn and snaked an arm around Renji’s shoulders. Renji held him and pecked his head, pressing his mouth and nose against his hair.

“Renji…” Ichigo hummed as he fell to sleep.

“Yeah?” Renji replied. “... Yeah?” he prompted when Ichigo seemed to have drifted off. He only realized he was still barely awake when Ichigo’s sweaty hand somehow found his and squeezed very very tightly, with strength that the rest of his limp body didn’t contain.

“I wanna’ tell you…” Ichigo yawned breathily, his body heaving with it as he snuggled his head against Renji’s neck. “I dunno’ how I woulda’ done it if I didn’t have you,” he murmured, and Renji lay absolutely still, listening to his dreamy mumbling and the sound of the cicadas outside.

 

 

    “Without you, I would’ve been alone.”

A time not so very long ago, in a white palace with the three worlds crumbling around them and the weight of all three on the shoulders of one lonely boy, and he was standing there at his back, they’ll be cut down together, they’ll die together – carry him, follow him to the end, at any cost. He’d made a promise to be at his side, and he’d never let him face anything alone again. That was the strength of his love.

“I’m so glad you were with me at the end.”

There was nothing to say, so he just lay still and listened and ached and felt the moon through the window.

“I’m so glad I wasn’t alone.”

Renji held him tight and closed his eyes, breathing into Ichigo’s hair, taking in the glow of making love with the one he loves and the moon and the ache in his bones and his heart, and Ichigo’s sweet sighing and his sweet little breaths and the way his body is so slack and warm against his yet still holding onto his hand so tight. That promise felt like it could last to the end of the world, and that love could stand up to the crumbling of the universe, but now it felt meaningless, because the end was coming.

Renji kissed his head and swallowed the ache. Not much longer now.

It can’t last, but don’t think about it.

. . .

Over the years, Renji had become really used to sleeping alone, and he hates it.

It was somewhat of a sore spot in his heart because before those decades of being forced to learn to sleep alone, he’d couldn’t remember ever _not_ having slept with others around him, Rukia especially. The Rukongai got really cold at night, and he and the other kids had stayed warm by sleeping together, like little kittens.

Coming to the academy, all the individual beds, it had been so hard to adjust. Ever since Ichigo’s coming of age, Renji’s been sleeping like a baby. Having Ichigo nestled against him, warm and cozy, is like heaven.

In the morning, they woke up slow. Renji rested on his back and blinked sleepily. Ichigo lay against his chest contentedly, cheek mushed into his cleavage as his eyes drifted barely open on occasion. They breathed together for a long time under the sheets in the early light.

Ichigo shifted a little bit, his fluffy hair tickling Renji’s bare skin just slightly. He let out a breathy sigh and something felt wrenched tight in Renji’s chest suddenly. He held him and put his face in Ichigo’s hair, kissing his head and letting his eyes flick unseeingly around the room.

“Renji?...”

Ichigo nudged his hand clumsily, and held onto a couple of his fingers. Renji squeezed him, _squeezed_ , and didn’t ease up on his grip, pressing his face against Ichigo’s head. This hot horrible thing bubbled up in his throat at the sound of Ichigo’s voice.

“Yeah?” he managed to rasp.

“I…” Ichigo adjusted his head again, resting his cheek on his heart, and just laid there and breathed, running his hand on his chest. “I gotta’ go home,” he said quietly.

Renji didn’t know what he did after that, if he nodded or not, because everything went numb and fuzzy, but he heard Ichigo say it again after a little while. “I’ve really gotta’ go home.” He doesn’t know what he did, but he knows he didn’t say anything, because his throat had completely closed up.

He wasn’t able to speak, not until much later, when Ichigo lead him out to the gate and stood there by the open door, ready to walk through.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Renji thinks of ending it right then, he really does, but he still can’t make himself speak. He knows if he makes a single noise, he’s going to fall to pieces and give it away. Ichigo stepped away from him then, and Renji reached his arm out to keep holding his hand for as long as he can, until their fingers are only just barely brushing and Ichigo dropped his arm.

Renji watched Ichigo raise a hand then and smile, stepping through the door, and he can finally speak, and what he said was, “Goodbye.”

He’d never been one to drink when he was upset. If he had, those forty years would’ve seen him an alcoholic like Ikkaku. That night though, he talked with Hisagi, and he did drink. He drank until he was drunk and staring around dazedly and repeatedly feeling at his face.

He felt like he was crying even though he wasn’t. Nothing was coming out. He could feel the sobs in his chest, the pain of them, he could feel the pressure in his face, in his cheeks and forehead, he could feel the cries in his dry aching throat, but nothing was coming out. He was empty, like everything had already been ripped out. He felt like it was already gone.

“I don’t know what to do,” he finally mumbled numbly, and Hisagi looked relieved, having been unable to get him to say what the matter was until then.

“I think,” he said, swallowing around the word, “I think I have to end it.” Hisagi was silent, and Renji could see his frowning face in his periphery, but he just stared around aimlessly.

“I’ve let it go on for too long.” He held his glass, and that’s the only thing keeping him from dropping to the floor. “I think… I think it’s just gonna’ hurt more if we don’t stop now.”

“You’re all the way in,” Hisagi insisted. “It’ll hurt as much now as it ever will. You’re in love with him.”

“I’ve made a mistake.”

“I don’t think so.” Hisagi sipped his beer and frowned more. He cleared his throat and went on to say, “I think you’ve found something great.” Renji looked up, everything inside of him buzzing numbly. He felt lost.

“Look, man, for a long time there you were really down… and then after Ichigo came around, you’ve been a lot happier.” Hisagi scratched at his hair and shrugged a little. “Everyone’s seen it, man.”

Renji bitterly raised his glass to his mouth and gulped and gulped. If anyone, _anyone_ had been happy for him, they sure hadn’t fucking shown it. Even Ikkaku had taken a few years to admit he’d come around.

“It’d been so long since you’d smiled to your eyes.” Hisagi frowned sadly, brow scrunching, and when Renji heard those words, the crying and screaming and sobbing almost came out, he feels all the pain bubble and pop underneath the lid. He rubbed his chest and leaned forward, gut tensing as if to force it out.

Hisagi hesitantly reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, prodding him. He’d always had a difficult time with heart to hearts, but he tried, he always tried, every time Renji had been particularly sad or upset over Rukia, Hisagi had been there with an open bed and an open heart.

“And then he came, and you just… you hold your head up,” he explained, the awkwardness creeping out and leaving behind a kind of soft satisfaction.

And Renji knew, he knew exactly what he was talking about, and that feeling was what he can’t bear to lose most of all. The unstoppable force that had come into his life and built him up, healed his hurts, made him back into the man he liked looking at in the mirror – if he has to let go of that-

“I have to make it easy,” Renji mumbled.

Hisagi made an uncomfortable noise, the one he did after he’d joined Squad 11 and taken on their reckless attitude to be able to cope with his pain, the one he used every time he felt like he had to stop him from doing something idiotic but knew he probably couldn’t do anything about his stubbornness.  “Don’t throw it all away for something that hasn’t happened yet,” he tried to coax, cleared his throat, and surprised Renji when he said, “Please.”

Renji looked at him and then put his head in his hands.

“Don’t throw it away,” Hisagi continued, creeping closer and keeping his hand on his shoulder. It’s hot like Ichigo’s always are. “I don’t wanna’ see you like that again,” he almost whispered, and Renji felt a sense of boundless guilt and shame overtake him. There isn’t a more loathsome creature on earth than that who hurts the ones he loves.

He stared at his lap, holding his head up with his hands. Finally he heard himself say, “I wish I could take it all back,” and the pain at his own admission is unbearable.

“No,” Hisagi said rather helplessly, shaking him a bit. “C’mon, no.”

“I wish I’d never told him.”

“You’re in a black mist,” his friend insisted firmly, “He’s gone away and you’re not seeing straight.” Hisagi took both of his shoulders then and shook him, making him pick his head up.

“He’ll come back, Renji.”

Renji stared at him numbly, watched as Hisagi’s eyes flick between his own. He knew more than anything that Hisagi was trying to comfort him and talk him down from the ledge, but more than ever, it was not the reassurance he needed. Because he already knew.

‘ _I haven’t had any regrets, no matter how crazy I got because of you.’_

_Not for a second did I feel like anything we did was wrong, and neither did you!_

_You know what I think? I think you’re scared. You’re making excuses so you can bury it and run away from it.’_

All Renji was was a cowardly heart, running, howling, but too scared to bite, too scared to jump. He’s never been able to do anything for himself without someone there, without a star in the sky to bark at, without something impossibly far away to feel lonely for or jealous of. He’s nothing on his own.

_‘You never change, Renji. You’re still making excuses for why you won’t go for what you want. You can follow me to the end, but you can’t fucking face yourself._

_I see right through you. You can’t fucking stand it, can you.’_

Burning bright like a star, shoulders strong enough to hold up those pains and regrets and the incredible weight of his guilt, there’d been this pure, unselfish, loving heart, and he’d been unable to resist the one who’d taken that pain away, who’d taken the unbearable loneliness out of him.

_‘No one’s made my choices but me, Renji._

_Me for you, I knew right away. It was so easy. It feels right._

_You're finally here. I can feel you, right here._

_Let me share half of your worries.’_

And Renji loved him, and he’d always remember him like that, that image of him standing there smiling over his shoulder, hand raised, the sun lighting up his hair-

 

 

 

_‘I’ll be back soon...’_

“He’ll come back,” he heard Hisagi say again, and that’s when he finally moved.

“I know.”

He stood, his legs somehow supporting him, and he turned away, walking out into the night. Another night of running, another night of cowardice, another night of the moon on his back. Another night of thoughts on an endless loop: ‘ _I never should’ve told him I love him. I never should have made him love me.’_

 

“He should stay there.”

. . .

It’s all come down to this really. He’d stumbled along through life as well as he could for as long as he’d been able, fucking things up and trying again on endless repeat, but it’s all come down to this.

He walked there, feeling more like a ghost than ever, until he dragged his aching bones up to Rukia’s door and let himself in. He was so tired, so exhausted, and when he saw her, he didn’t think he could even try to keep it in.

The tears weren’t coming out, but inside, he was crying. Zabimaru was howling, letting loose these terribly eerie cries that sounded like those of a bird. The nights when the Nue cry were always dreadful, and surely spelled impending disaster.

Renji saw her face and nearly collapsed to his knees in her arms, but all he could do was reach out. Her heart-shaped face was blurred, and he tried to blink it clear, but his eyes felt sticky and crusted over.

At last, he was here, with someone who understood him better than anyone in the world, he was with the person he loved most, and the relief of it was overpowering.

“Rukia?...”

And he thought he might really cry. He felt so broken and lost. It felt like he’d already lost him. He was so scared and he felt like Ichigo was already dead, already gone and ripped away forever from his arms. He didn’t want to go through it, he didn’t want to go through it again. He didn’t think he could do it again, he couldn’t, he doesn’t know how he’ll do it, he can’t-can’t-can’t, he wasn’t strong enough to do it twice. It hurt so badly. He didn’t know how this much pain could exist inside a person without them buckling.

“Rukia?” he croaked, and he tried to ask her what to do, he tried to speak, but he can’t, and her tiny little hands wrap around one of his, and they feel so strong, and he can feel that she knew everything already just by looking at his face.

He stumbled after her blind, until she coaxed him to sit down. He felt at his face again clumsily, and still nothing, still dry.

Her hand held his, so small that it can only wrap around three of his fingers, and when she squeezed and stroked the back  of his knuckles with her other hand, it all came out. He didn’t know what he said exactly, but he told her about the feeling, about the unbearable sense of guilt and selfishness that won’t go away, about that beautiful fragile thing and the way he and Ichigo had met soul to soul, and how can he let go of it, how – and he told her about the crossroad.

_What does he do, what is he supposed to do?_

“Renji,” she said after listening silently, “I know it’s been hard. It’s hard to know what to do.”

And he crumpled, the ache in his chest becoming too much to bear, and the Nue cried and cried. The only thing keeping him from falling down dead from the pain are her strong hands and her voice, she knows the answers, she loves him, she’s always understood him and no matter what happens or how long that moon hangs there in the sky and lights up his loathsome heart, she’ll be there and she’ll love him.

“Sometimes it’s the right thing to do to let go,” she said, her voice cutting through the mire of pain and numbness, “Sometimes you have to do what’s right for the other person even if it hurts, even if what’s right is to make them stop loving you.”

 _‘How?’_ he wanted to scream, ‘I know, I know, I know I have to let go, but _how could I ever be that strong? How can I let go?’_

She squeezed his hand, and he met her eyes, dark and indigo and sparkling with the moonlight coming through the shades. “But you can never be sure what’s in another person’s brain.”

‘What?’ he tried to say, but he couldn’t speak. For a moment he just felt like a pair of eyes, an aching heart, and a hand being held, nothing else existing but her and her words.

“What seems to you like the right thing for them might not be what _they_ think is the right thing for them,” Rukia said firmly, “You can’t micromanage, Renji. You can’t decide what another person will do with their life. You have to let them do what they’re going to do. They’re the one who knows what they want and what’ll make them happy.”

Her tone went soft then, and she squeezed his hand tightly, rubbing it with her icy little thumbs. Her deep eyes saw right into him, saw the dog hiding and barking, and still there was no trace of contempt, only boundless understanding and acceptance.

“And what makes Ichigo happy is you.”

He swallowed hard and he was able to speak then, rasping, “I promised.” He gripped her little hand in his, enveloping it completely. “I promised him I’d stop thinking about it, but I can’t.” He looked at her face, his voice taking on a tone of raw desperation. “Rukia, I can’t.”

“Ichigo’s his own person. Don’t take yourself away from him because you feel afraid,” she said. “You’ve already tried that and it didn’t work.”

“I don’t wanna’ lose him.”

“Have you talked to him about this?”

“I can’t,” he croaked, “I can’t tell him. I promised.” He frowned helplessly and pleaded with her, “Rukia, what’m I gonna’ do? I dunno’ what to do.”

Her hand slipped out of his then as much as he tried to hold on, and he could feel it against his cheek, her usually cool palm warmed slightly from his own grip. “Nothing stays the same forever. The only thing you have control of is right now. And you have to decide.”

He knew that, he knew, he’d told her about the crossroad, and the point is he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know which road to take. Which one’s going to lead to less pain, which one is the right thing to do, which one means he loves Ichigo more?

“Your choices are to let him into your heart and see what happens down the road, or let go and wonder for the rest of your life.”

“But which one is _right?”_ he rasped, his voice wrenching.

“What feels right in your heart. I think you already know,” she said, and he wanted to cry, because he doesn’t. That’s why he’d come to her for help. “Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.”

“...”

“Renji,” she sighed, her eyes tired and mirroring his own pain, “All you can do in this world is try your best.”

 

        ‘ _When you find it, don’t let go, no matter how hard it gets.’_

He can’t hold on, it’s too hard. He can’t hold onto sand, he can’t hold onto a sliver of moonlight. It’s much too hard.

‘ _I think you’ve found something great.’_

        God, he had. His smile, his laughter, his stubborn strength, the angry outbursts, the lovable perfect scrunchy scowl, every moment Renji felt on top of the world standing at his side. He’d carry him to the end of the world. He had found something great. He had, he had, he had.

      ‘ _Let him into your heart and see what happens.’_    He was already there. How can Renji ever let him back out?

 

                         ‘ _Renji… I’m so glad you were with me.’_

 

And she’s right. He did know.  

 

Renji sniffed and coughed through his sore throat and Rukia scooted forward towards him. He let her bony arms around him and he hugged her for a long long time.

 

 

“What will you do?” she asked at last.

 

            “I have to tell him.”

 

She squeezed him and seemed satisfied. Renji breathed into her hair, eyes closed. “Be strong,” she said.

 

                                         “I’ll do my best.”

 

. . .

Renji came through the portal with a cautious resolve, stepping out into Urahara’s shop.

He looked around him hesitantly, straightening up at the sound of birdsong outside and the glow of the sun through the windows in the next room.

Turning to walk through the store and stand outside, he saw that Ichigo was already there, waiting for him. He meant to say it right then, ‘I have to tell you something, Ichigo, I want to talk with you about something,’ but once he laid eyes on him, he stopped in confusion. Ichigo was dressed up a bit.

Well, actually, not much more than usual, but he was pulling at his shirt cuffs and trying to button them at the elbows, and he was wearing a belt on his pants, and for a moment, it looked like he’d styled his hair. After a second or two gazing at him with his mouth open on the words, he realized Ichigo had gotten a haircut.

Standing in the doorway there with the sun behind him, all of a sudden he looked all grown up, he’s already a man, but when he met Renji’s gaze, that warm beautiful thing was still there in his eyes, locked into the amber like an insect from millions of years ago, still unchanged and perfectly preserved. That fragile lovely thing was still alive and dancing, lit up in the sun.

“You’re here,” Ichigo said with his usual frown, and his voice was breathy and pleased, as if he’d run in here as soon as he’d heard him come through.

“Yeah…” Renji replied slowly, confused and a bit stunned, “What’s all-”

“Renji, get in your gigai!” Ichigo was gone as soon as he’d appeared.

“What? Why!”

Ichigo leaned back into the room a bit, waving a hand. “Just do it, I wanna’ take you somewhere.” He headed down the hallway then, calling, “I’ll be right back!”

“Heeeh?” Renji shrugged and got his gigai out, struggling into it and then huffing, testing his joints. “Are you just gonna’ stand there?” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder.

A grunt came from behind him and he eyed the blue Arrancar leaning in the doorway. After staring each other down for some time with Ichigo clattering around in the distance, the Arrancar finally growled, “He’s excited.”

“...”

“He’s been planning this. Been bothering me all week. So,” he grumbled, “if you were a dick to’m’, it’d be real shitty if you had some sort of fatal accident.”

Renji narrowed his eyes. “What are you, threatening me?”

“No. Warning you.”

“What’s that supposed to-”

Ichigo shoved past the blue guy and asked, “Yo, ready to go? You have it on?”

“Yeah,” Renji said slowly, wrists on his hips as he watched the hollow wander away after childishly making an ‘I’m watching you’ sign with his fingers. “What’s going on exactly?”

“I’m taking you on a date!” Ichigo said as if it were obvious, and when Renji didn’t reply, he seemed uncertain then, shifting, his confidence faltering somewhat. Renji curled his toes up, feeling this warm thing unfold inside him.

A lopsided smile came onto his face. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Ichigo straightened up. “Let’s go!”

Ichigo didn’t take his hand, but he made this weird jerky motion like he almost had, but then had stopped himself. He covered it by swiping at his nose and then beckoned him outside. Renji followed him, and grinned as Ichigo stood in the dappled shade of the trees and took a deep breath of the late summer air. He was still just kind of surprised that Ichigo had planned a date for them. He’d never done that before, and so out of the blue too.

“What do we do on a living world date?” When he and Rukia had been doing fieldwork out here during the Arrancar invasion, they’d explored the metal city a bit and eaten some food, and Renji hadn’t really focused on any of the weird things here, more worried about the job and the ever approaching enemies, and annoying Ichigo at school of course. For a while there too, he’d staked out in Ichigo’s room and let him teach him about the Living World in Rukia’s place, but Ichigo had mostly done schoolwork and let him bum around in his room and read magazines and watch his TV-box.

“Usually eat stuff, or watch a movie,” Ichigo explained, walking out towards the road with him and then following along the sidewalk, “Y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“But other times, well,” he hummed, hands in his pockets, “you go out and do something fun. And I know you like animals. So… we can go to the zoo.”

“Hm?”

“It’s a place you can go where they keep all different kinds of animals that wouldn’t normally live together.” Ichigo came to a stop at a seemingly random spot next to a pole sticking out of the ground that had a picture of a… thing.

“... Why do they do that?” Renji muttered, not really following the idea.

“So you can see them all at once without having to travel around the world.”

“Right,” Renji mumbled, remembering the ball Ichigo had showed him and the island he lived on. So they’re going to the _zoo,_ huh? Renji imagined a big field with wolves and sheep living together.

“Don’t they try to eat each other?”

“No,” Ichigo bit back a smile and Renji scowled. “They have little areas for each kind.”

“How do they take care of them all?”

“I dunno’, I’m not a zookeeper…” Ichigo rolled a shoulder. “You wanna’ go?”

“How do we get there?”

“We have to take the train.”

From what Renji understood, the train was a metal capsule that zoomed you around underground, like shunpo, kind of. “We’re going to get inside a train?”

“Well, right now we’re waiting for a bus to the station.”

“Oh.” Renji stood next to Ichigo for a second and watched the road, where a car would occasionally pass. “So,” he said after a time, “You planned this out?” Ichigo scuffed his toe sheepishly.

“Yeah.” He scratched at his head. “Sorry to spring it on you all of a sudden. I’d meant to ask you before, but…”

“It’s okay,” Renji said, and he found that he didn’t have to lie. “Sometimes a surprise is better.”

Ichigo looked up at him. “Yeah… Surprises can be awesome.” A smile played on the edges of his mouth, and Renji swallowed and looked back and wanted more than ever to kiss him.

 

‘ _Do you get what I’m saying?’                  ‘Yeah.’_

_‘Good. Great.’_

Ichigo’s eyes were so incredibly tender and warm as they looked at him, that he knew they were thinking the same thing, and Renji couldn’t bring himself to say it, couldn’t tell him just yet. Let him have this one day, one last day before everything fell apart. Before the crossroad.

The bus screeched as it drove straight at them, and Renji stepped back from the edge of the sidewalk, watching as it stopped in front of them. A door opened, and Ichigo got in immediately, looking back at him. “C’mon, get in.”

He did, and they sat together as the world passed them in a blur.

Ichigo spent the day leading him around and showing him his favorite things about his home world. Renji didn’t know why they hadn’t done this before. Well, he does. Ever since they’ve been together, when Ichigo made a trip home, Renji made a point of letting him go alone and not showing up uninvited. It’s… hard for him to be here; painful. It made him think of things he’d rather keep inside.

But not anymore. He had to tell him. There was no other way. But one more day, just one. Ichigo was so excited about this, after all. No point in ruining that.

They wandered the zoo-park together for ages. Ichigo didn’t hold his hand or act affectionately when they were out and about, but stood at his side all day and took the same steps he did and looked where he looked, at every animal and every tall building and every food stand. He answered all of Renji’s questions and didn’t call him dumb even though he was amazed by everything he saw in the city.

It was so colorful and there was so many things that seemed to work by magic, although Ichigo insisted magic wasn’t real.

“Are you having fun?” Ichigo asked as they stood at the side of the gibbon pit, elbows next to each other on the fence-ledge. He sounded so hopeful.

“Yeah,” Renji said.

“I can show you other things maybe,” Ichigo muttered hesitantly, “If you visit more often.” Renji’s face fell, and Ichigo sighed, looking out on the fuzzy apes climbing around. “I know you don’t like coming here.”

“What? No…” Renji cleared his throat. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Ichigo considered, then brushed off, “Never mind. I hope you’ll come more though, because…” He fidgeted. “There’s a lot of things I want to do together. And I just wanted to say…”

Renji swallowed hard and clenched his hand on the fence rail, looking over at Ichigo.

“I’m really happy you’re by my side,” Ichigo eventually got out, and Renji’s expression softened.

“Me too.”

Emboldened by his reaction, Ichigo went on. “And I hope that we keep going on like this, to the end.” He nudged Renji’s arm with his, looking up into his face. “Even if it’s hard, I’ll keep on going. I swear that I will.”

“Swear to what,” Renji said with a dry throat.

Ichigo just smiled, and Renji felt like he was about to break apart.

“Ichigo,” he croaked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well,” Ichigo said quietly, turning towards him tentatively and meeting his eyes. “I dunno’ the exact date, but around this time of year, five years ago, I met you for the first time,” he recounted, “in the rain.”

Renji stared at him, heart full to bursting.

“... And well, now I’m in the sun,” Ichigo said, his lip quirking up, “And I feel like I’m finally strong enough to say these things.”

He looked at Renji with those eyes and that lovely thing with his shoulders set and lit up in the sunlight, and Renji just stared.

“So thank you.”

They stood there in the sunlight together and looked at each other for some time, and Renji felt that he was touching on Ichigo’s soul. Ichigo was flushed but didn't look away.

“Renji…?”

“Yeah,” he rasped.

“Can we go back to your place?” Ichigo whispered, glancing around as he drew closer to him and squirmed. “I…” he leaned towards his ear and told him, “I want you right now.”

He didn’t know how long it took for them to get back, he just remembered reaching out and grabbing his wrist and dragging him, and blurs and blurs and blurs, and it felt like the next thing he was pushing him down in his bed and holding his arms down.

He tried not to think about it as the last time. He tried not to think about how he was going to tell him afterwards and that this was the last time, so he just held him and felt that feeling of touching his soul and feeling good together and tried not to let his heart break at the sound of Ichigo breathing his name in his ear, because if he does, he won’t be able to do it later, he won’t be able to say it. He’ll just keep holding on, he’ll just keep doing this forever, because when they'd met, he'd been in the rain too, and these years he'd spent in the sun with Ichigo had been like a dream.

He’s really learned how to do it pretty good over the years, and that night, he made love to Ichigo like it really was the last time. They lay together panting and Renji looked into his breathless face, his pink cheeks and his bright eyes, and he brushed his short hair through his fingers - and he doesn’t know how to let him out after he’s touched his soul, after he’s seen him and known him.

The strong heart, the gentle hands, the pure fresh young soul – Renji can’t take it back out of his brain. A million stupid things he’d picked up from knowing him for the past few years, things that wouldn’t just be forgotten upon parting, they were still there.

He knew Ichigo only pretended to hate his stupid jokes, and that, like him, despite his appearance, he was a good student. He knew his favorite foods were chocolate and spicy fish eggs; his favorite color is pink. He loved springtime, and he was sensitive about his hair, and he still frowned even when he was in a good mood. He was brave, and he was strong, but he was soft, and everywhere he went, people loved him. Even his enemies couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little, some of them turning their lives around completely, because Ichigo had made them believe in something. It seemed inescapable.

And Renji didn’t know how not to love him, he didn’t know how to fall out of love with that scowly braveheart softy.

When they finally came to rest and Renji was able to separate them, to let him out of his arms, they talked. Ichigo lay next to him on his side, a wonderful ruffled mess, and when Renji wasn’t able to smile convincingly enough, Ichigo’s face creased in a frown as he leaned his head on his hand.

They breathed together for a long time, Renji avoiding Ichigo’s tentative probing gaze, until finally, Ichigo cleared his throat and quietly wondered, “Is something up?” as if afraid he’d explode on him. Renji sighed, closing his eyes, feeling Ichigo’s trailing fingers on his arm pause and fidget.

“You’ve seemed… different, lately,” Ichigo tried to explain, but began to get flustered. “Like, not _weird_ -different, well… yeah, weird, but…” He rubbed his forehead, “Ahh, what I mean is… Fuck, I’m messing this up.”

Renji let his eyes drop to the mattress, and felt ashamed. Ichigo must’ve known. He must’ve known that he’s been down and had planned to take him out to try and make things better. But they can’t be made better. He’d just hoped to avoid dragging Ichigo down with him.

Ichigo let out a long breath through his nose and looked away, but he had that air about him like he was about to get sappy or personal. He’d been doing it a lot lately. Renji hadn’t really let himself think about it until now, until they were nearing the end, the way Ichigo had opened up to him in the last few weeks, how loving he’d been, how trustingly he’d exposed his heart, and even now, he was still doing it.

_‘What makes Ichigo happy is you.’_

       _'It takes a lotta' luck to find that something special.'_

_‘Everyone’s seen it, man.’_

                                     

                                   _‘And well… now I’m in the sun. So thank you.’_

 

“I know you feel kinda’ sad sometimes,” Ichigo murmured. “I used to feel that way a lot too. For a long time… I was really lonely. It wasn’t until I met Rukia and you an’ the rest that I started to come out of it. I’d never really admitted to myself that I needed other people to see a point in it all, but I do. It got especially bad after I lost my powers. It felt like… well… never mind, it just...”

He sighed, rubbing at his hair. “I guess... after the war, part of me didn’t expect anyone to want me to stay. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I know how you feel.”

He swallowed as Ichigo let out another breath and took his hand, squeezing it. “... You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But… I’m here, if you ever do wanna’.” He tried to joke then, but it came out a bit weak, like the floor beneath him was too shaky to put his foot out with any confidence.

“And I won’t clobber you like you guys always did to me.” He rubbed Renji’s hand with his thumb. “I’ll listen,” he almost whispered.

Renji squeezed back, and all he could get out was, “Thanks.”

They laid there in silence together for a time, and Renji knew that it was time, and with Ichigo’s hand gripping his, he did feel strong enough. He was strong enough to let go, if that was what was going to happen at the end.

“Is it… still bothering you?” Ichigo hedged awkwardly after a few minutes of trying to lay still and occasionally wriggling around uncomfortably. “I mean… that I’m just a kid, and you’re a man?”

And suddenly the guilt and selfishness was too much. Because Ichigo was all grown up, and he’s made him feel small and stupid like him, he _has_ dragged him down with his bad mood, and the crossroad is now.

“No,” Renji said with a great sigh, and suddenly he made himself look straight at him, and he confronts the awful truth that he’s taken this young man’s life away for too long. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear it if Ichigo looked back later with regret at having wasted so much time. And he couldn’t falter in this moment, he couldn’t stumble. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if Ichigo decided to give up everything he could’ve done and had, and live here with him. This pure free spirit couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“It’s not that anymore,” Renji said, and Ichigo rolled a little bit closer, unconsciously mirroring him by pillowing his head on his arm. “I just think about…” Ichigo’s eyes were wide and his brow slightly tensed as he listened.

“Yeah?” he prompted in a near-whisper when Renji couldn’t go on.

“About…” he tried, “What your life would’ve been if I…”

        _‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever looked at you like that.’_

_‘Never should have told you, never, never, never.’_

 "I wish I…”

                                    _‘You’re not going though.’_ _‘Who knows what’ll happen.’_

 

 

“Would you have gone back?” Renji rasped, and suddenly he can’t _not_ say it, because he had to know, because their souls had touched together and Ichigo’s eyes see into him and _know_ him like Rukia’s do, and he can’t not say it.

Ichigo looked into his eyes, face slack in incomprehension, but he was still trying to hold onto Renji’s limp hand, like he was trying to squeeze life back into it, crush the sadness out.

“Back then, I mean,” he clarified, and his voice is dangerously close to cracking, dry and stretched thin from dread. “If I hadn’t said what I said, would you have gone back?”

He’d said it, and the words seem to hang, choke him, and Ichigo just looked at him for a moment or so, his expression scrunching in confusion, then recognition. Finally, when Renji almost couldn’t bear it, he spoke.

“Renji,” he said firmly, as if he were stupid, “I would’ve gone back regardless. I go back now.”

“But you don’t live there like you used to. Not anymore. You don’t have the same life,” Renji breathed sadly, his mind running a repeat of _‘my fault, all my fault, I did this, I did this, I did this-’_

“How could I after Rukia woke up my powers.” Ichigo didn’t seem to understand what has upset him so much. He was speaking with his normal candor, and somehow, that got Renji through, kept him from snapping and bawling his eyes out and holding onto him, _please no, don’t let it be the end yet-_

“I’ve never been full human, Renji,” Ichigo said with his brow furrowed. “That life was a lie.”

“But it was what you knew,” he insisted stubbornly. “And we took you away from that. I’m keeping you from going back to that. Right now, if I’d just kept my mouth shut, you’d be…” He swallowed, and Ichigo grimaced at him.

“Let’s get something straight, Renji. No matter what you would’ve said or done, I would always want to go back.” And he smiled then, maybe a little wearily, but it went to his eyes, and Renji didn’t know whether his heart was going to sink through the floor or burst.

“Karakura is my home.”

 

 

“Look, of course things are different than they would’ve been. I can’t unlearn or unsee all the things I’ve seen or unmeet the people I’ve met, but that doesn’t mean just because I love Soul Society that I would leave behind everything I knew.” Ichigo’s eyes glowed as he smiled down at their hands. “I love being human.”

Renji breathed and stared, watching the purplish light of the sunset light the foot of the bed, Ichigo’s back, the windowsill aglow. “I’m glad that… that the people here don’t need me anymore. That means that everyone I love is safe.”

Ichigo’s face was soft, and his eyes were soulful, almost sad, but he was smiling, as if he’d come to rest his bones after a long trip far from home. “I don’t have to protect them now.”

“But…” And Renji didn’t know what he’d meant to say, because the words got lost. Ichigo lay at his side and in the silence, let his eyes drift shut, and in the rosy glow of the setting sun, he looked so peaceful there – and Renji doesn’t know how not to love him.

“I don’t want to make it hard when you have to choose is my point,” he tried to explain. “I don’t want you to feel bad, once it’s time.”

“Choose?” Ichigo opened his eyes. “Choose what?”

“You can’t be a human and a shinigami.” Renji held his hand back then, curling his fingers into his tightly. _‘You can’t be with me and be truly happy. How could you be.’_

Ichigo suddenly snorted scornfully and gave him this weird look, and Renji stared. “Who says?”

Renji just blinked, and opened his mouth as Ichigo jabbed him in the forehead with one of his long fingers. “And I’m not a shinigami,” he said with a little grin.

“Shinigami-daikou,” Renji managed to say. He’s able to quirk his lip back at him, and he was sure that was Ichigo’s intention when he saw the warmth in his eyes – and Renji suddenly remembers this story about a crying kid, bloody and afraid, and a toy airplane, and a daily visit, a pat on the head. He remembered the kindness of Ichigo’s heart and the way his scary dad horsed around to distract his kids from the hurt, not so differently from Ichigo in how he pretended to smile and said everything was alright and held you up on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Ichigo said with a satisfied smile. “I’ve been breaking the rules since I was born.” He moved Renji’s bangs a little bit, very gently, and for a moment, Ichigo was the old soul and he was the little one fumbling around blind. “I’m just a substitute. I can stop any time I want.”

“Yeah,” Renji conceded, and they’d had a talk like this before, sort of, a while back when he’d told Ichigo he got stupid and scared when he went to the Living World, and even though Ichigo’s confidence in putting his fears to rest had silenced that little voice for a while, it had come back, and grown big and dark over time – and he can still hear that voice now, this whisper of doubt.

“But won’t it be hard?” he let it say with his mouth, letting that dark awful fear out, letting the _crossroads_ out. “Always being in the middle of it like that?”

And he held on so hard he could feel Ichigo’s knuckles crunching together in his grip, but Ichigo merely sighed.

“Maybe,” he said, “but that’s how it goes.”

Renji doesn’t know how he could know Ichigo so well and yet not understand him at all sometimes, so he lay and blinked and thought about it, how the kid could take everything in his stride.

“Meanwhile, you made a promise to me,” Ichigo said firmly, and Renji’s heart dropped like a rock.

“I know,” he said guiltily. “I know I did. I’m sorry.”

Ichigo talked over him with that bossy tone he’d picked up from Rukia. “You promised to be with me until the end, you promised to carry me through if I couldn’t go on, and I…” he faltered a bit, “I’m gonna’ do the same for you when it gets rough.”

He took Renji’s hand and picked it up off the bed, tentatively bringing it towards his bare chest, and Renji didn’t breathe, remembering their first night together.

“When you’re scared, or it hurts bad, you can think of that and feel me with you,” Ichigo murmured shyly, but met his eyes completely, and pressed his palm flush to his heart. “That’s why I stayed.”

Renji’s hand lay slack against his chest, and he stared into Ichigo’s face, feeling the bumps against his fingers, the warmth of it.

                        _‘That carried me through to the end. Did you know that?     That meant everything.’_

 

He swallowed through his dry throat. “So you’re saying that if not for me, then… you would have gone back no matter what?”

Ichigo let out a long breath. “Yes.” Renji’s eyes lowered to the bed, and he curled the hand on Ichigo’s chest into a loose fist, meaning to take it away, but Ichigo held onto his wrist.

“Renji," Ichigo said rather haltingly, scratching the bridge of his nose. “I do love being human, but there _is_ something else.”

“What?”

Ichigo took a breath, and rolled onto his elbows. “You.” Renji stared for a second. “I… I love _you."_

The way he said it was warm and beautiful; he said it like he’d never said the words out loud to anyone before - and the verbal sentiment was overdue, and Renji found he'd already known.

And as all the guilt and shame and fear came rushing out of him and he opened his arms, Ichigo leapt into his embrace and kissed him – Renji felt the moon shining down into his soul as the sun finally set, and he felt the touch of Ichigo’s heart, knotted through his, and he knew. How could he ever have forgotten.

“Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah.”

 

 

        "Good."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for your support, and for the suggestion to write a Renji POV. Also, I hope the artwork wasn't disruptive and instead added to the story.


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